#KnY Pet Au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunandflame · 7 months

Text

Not a Monster

Warnings: fluff, nsfw, smut, implied violence, neglect, threesome, double penetration, biting, mating, jealousy

Word Count: 7,2k

Pairing: Yoriichi x Fem!Reader x Kokushibo

crossposted on AO3

In a world where Demons had become domesticated in the last century or so, becoming glorified pets and workers.

You knew you had done your friend a favor by getting her a pet demon, especially since you were worried about her mental state, which had been rapidly getting worse.

Weeks and months had passed now. Of course you remained in constant contact and had observed how good it was for her to take care of the demonic creature. Which of course left you wondering why you didn't have one, since you weren't any better when it came to fighting the loneliness that was a constant part of your life. Some solitude was always good but when prolonged, it was overwhelming and could be painful.

That's why you thought it couldn't hurt to - maybe - keep your eyes open, look and behold, it literally popped in front of your nose as you walked past a shelter. There was a red sign with 'HIGH DISCOUNT' there.

It wouldn't hurt to take a look, right?

Your entrance was announced by the ringing of a bell above the door. There was no one there and you looked around cautiously. There were all sorts of things that were used for keeping a demon. You walked down the corridor and saw a big cage standing darkly in the corner. It was larger than the other cages you had seen and you became curious, especially since the sign also said high discount.

As you walked in closer, you noticed the demon who was on his knees behind the bars, dignified and humble, he had his gaze lowered until he realized you were there. He was beautiful with his maroon colored eyes and long black hair that turned reddish at the tips. A prominent mark on his forehead took nothing away from his beauty and neither did the two horns that protruded from his forehead. Two horns…? Wait a minute, this means…

“This is a pureblood, very rare on the market.”

Startled, you turned to the clerk, who suddenly stood behind the counter and stared at you. Your gaze went back to the demon, who looked at you carefully and didn't take his eyes off of you. “Then why is it at such a low price?”

“Because of his brother.”

"His brother?" You frowned and looked confused from the seller to the cage and you felt another presence in the cage - 6 glowing eyes stared at you from the dark corner.

He stepped forward next to his brother and even though you could tell they were probably twins, you could clearly see the differences. The red of his long hair was darker and more spikier, his complexion paler, his physique was broader and more muscular. But this was not the main difference. It was his eyes which he held 6 pairs of. Golden with red sclera. His aura was intimidating and yet also very regal and proud. He had two horns as well that were more purple than red. He also adorned an additional mark that ran from his chin down to his throat.

“Why, what’s wrong with his brother?” You couldn't take your eyes off him as you asked your questions and saw him squinting all of his 6 eyes on you.

“Yoriichi is a very domestic and remarkable demon. Very trusting, friendly, and listens to every command but his brother, Kokushibo, on the other hand… Well, I can only say that his previous owner was not able to handle him.”

“It didn’t occur to you to separate the two?”

“Of course, but every time they were separated, Kokushibo became more and more uncontrolled, and Yoriichi always managed to escape and return to his brother. We’ve tried it several times but it just didn’t work, which is why these rare purebloods are on discount.”

You saw Yoriichi looking at you with interest and Kokushibo about to hiss at you. You turned your head to the seller and grinned at him. “I’ll take them both.”

~ ~ ~

You really didn't know what got into you when you found yourself standing in front of the two demons that were clearly too tall. They literally towered over you by almost two heads, looking down at your pathetic height. You should have been intimidated, but strangely enough, you weren't. Maybe it was because Yoriichi's calm and tranquil manner balanced out Kokushibo's wild and angry one. The two of them were like yin and yang. Brothers who couldn't be separated.

The purchase was so spontaneous that you weren't really prepared and you were lucky enough to have a larger apartment with an additional room that you could possibly make available to the two of them. Your friend, whom you surprised with the demon Giyuu, probably felt as unprepared as you too.

“When was the last time you two ate?”

The two of them stared at you before Kokushibo turned away in disdain and Yoriichi felt obligated to answer for them both. He opened his mouth and it was the first time either of them had opened their mouths. “We last ate 10 days ago.”

What?! No wonder the six-eyed demon was in such a bad mood. Demons didn't have to eat regularly like humans. 1 to 2 a week was enough, but not 10 days! They must have been absolutely starving!

After they had eaten, you prepared their room. Unfortunately you didn't have any other beds, just futons, but that should be enough for now.

~ ~ ~

A few days passed and they were quieter than expected. Kokushibo hadn't done anything bad to you but still refused to talk to you while Yoriichi was very pleasant.

“Yoriichi, do you want me to take your collar off? The Wisteria pouch must be uncomfortable for you.” Collars were mandatory for demons when they wanted to go outside, but the owner was able to choose at home.

He lowered his gaze humbly. “You are too kind, Mistress.”

You were very fond of Yoriichi. You liked his kind and gentle nature that even soothed your own chaotic thoughts. It was the least you could do for him. You asked him to lower his head and carefully took off his collar. While you came so close to him, you noticed his hair and gently stroked it. “How about I brush your hair, it’s looking a bit dull.”

His hair was beautiful and you could feel how he enjoyed being pampered by you in this way. How your brush went slowly through the dark red waves, making them shine again. It was a very domestic situation between the both of you that got interrupted by a dark aura from the corner. You quickly glanced from Yoriichi’s hair to Kokushibo. If you didn't know any better then you would assume that he was jealous, but you were not sure.

“Are you hungry?” But there was no answer. It was not like you expected him to talk. Both demon brothers had been very silent since the beginning. After taking off Yoriichi’s collar you noticed that he spoke a little bit more. His pleasant and calm voice relaxed you deeply and you wondered whether Kokushibo could even speak and whether it was perhaps because of the prong collar that he still had around his neck. The prong collar looked painful and even if you weren't intimidated by his strong presence, you still wanted to be careful.

But somehow that seemed unfair to you.

“Yoriichi, please wait here.” You stood up and approached the tall menacing demon until you were standing in front of him. He didn’t lower his ominous presence when he looked down on you and yet you showed no fear. ”Lower your head, please.” But he did nothing of that sort, but squinted his 6 eyes onto you. You let out a long sigh. You knew that it wouldn't be easy with him and yet you were slightly annoyed when you needed to pull up a chair so you could be on the same level as him.

“Don’t move…” You were very close to him as you fumbled with his prong collar to open it. What kind of brutal device was that? The collar was far too tight on his neck and had left scars; there were also scratch marks that showed that he had desperately tried to open it himself. It was said that demons who have face marks are wilder and less easy to tame. Kokushibo even had two. Was that the reason why they tortured him like that? Anger flared up in you, but you took controlled breaths so you were able to focus on this damn opening mechanism.

Kokushibo watched your efforts with interest and for the first time there was no anger or threatening aura coming from him or his eyes. After some fiddling with his neck, you managed to open the damn collar and threw it on the floor. Your gaze was focused on the puncture scars on his neck. Without a second thought, your fingers roamed over the spots.

Well at least you tried, because he had stopped you with such a quick movement that you took a startled step back. The only thing was that you had forgotten you were still standing on a chair and your foot stepped on thin air.

Everything happened so quickly in the next few seconds that you were not able to realize what actually happened until your body was pressed against his, his strong arms around your waist. He caught you in time and held you against his solid physique, and you could feel how strong and muscular he was. You looked at him with wide eyes while he looked at you almost bored. “You humans are so clumsy.”

Were those really his first words towards you? His voice had a deeper timbre than Yoriichi's and it made your skin shiver. Since his arrival, all he had done was glare at you and intimidate you with his brutal presence, which he was very good at controlling. All that was gone now as he still held you close to him - as if you weighed nothing. His gaze on you was interested, since this was the first time you were up so close to him.

“You- You can put me down now…” And he did. With a gentleness you never expected from him. Your soft body slid along his. You looked at him, slightly puzzled. “I'll get some balm for your wounds. Maybe you should sit down so I don’t have to get back on a chair.” He just nodded at you and sat down on the sofa where Yoriichi was sitting.

You left the room briefly and didn't notice how the brothers communicated with each other or how Kokushibo’s eyes were following you. With the balm in your hand, you sat between the two and turned your attention to Kokushibo. “Don’t be alarmed, it might be a little cool now,” you whispered as you gently rubbed the cool gel along his neck. He didn't even bat an eyelash and just let you do it while keeping all his 6 eyes closed. Was he enjoying it? It seemed like it. You carefully stroked over it a second time as you saw how the wounds were already starting to heal. “Woah!” You let out surprise.

“Our wounds heal very quickly and we can’t have scars, but my brother's collar was coated with an extra strong dose of wisteria that made him even weaker and made it difficult for him to speak. Thank you, Mistress, for this generous gift you gave to both of us.”

Yoriichi, who was sitting to your right, had taken your hand. He brought it gently to face and brushed it against his cheek and gave each knuckle a kiss. There were so many emotions associated with his gesture, like gratitude and affection, that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

You turned your head towards Kokushibo who looked at you with a look that you couldn't interpret. He finally spoke and his voice made you shiver again. “I would like to take a bath. May I, Owner?”

You simply nodded and watched him get up and disappear into the bathroom. Yoriichi, who was still holding your hand, spoke as his brother was gone. “Michikatsu is not evil as anyone would assume. He needs love and affection like any other being. I wouldn't mind if you would give some of your attention and affection to him."

“Michikatsu? His name is not Kokushibo?”

He shook his head. “Koku, black. Shi, death, Bo, eye. They named him like that because of his eyes. He never corrected them as he wanted them to fear him. But in reality Michikatsu is the nicest of them all.”

Michikatsu is the nicest of them all.

Yoriichi's words echoed in your mind as you knocked on your bathroom door and opened a crack. "Can I come in?"

“This is your house, Owner...”

You grimaced at his wording and entered anyway. You saw him sitting relaxed in the tub with all but one of his eyes closed. With the one he watched you carefully as you took a washcloth and sat down on a stool behind him. You gestured for him to lean forward slightly, which he did.

You moistened the washcloth with the warm water and gently slid it over his broad shoulder. Luckily his hair was already in a bun so you had free access to his back. At first he was very tense, but when he realized that you didn't mean him any harm and just wanted to scrub his back, you felt his muscles slowly relax under your fingers.

“I told your brother the same, please don’t call me Owner. Just call me Y/N. It feels so degrading to you both to call me owner.”

He was silent for a while before answering. “We... are demons... We have no right to name anything the way we want... We have no right to have an opinion on what we should be called. We are just objects in people's eyes. Easy pets...”

This time you were the one who remained silent, because you had felt the resentment and frustration behind those words. You took a cup and filled it with warm water and poured it over his back to wash away the dirt that had formed from your scrubbing. “I don’t know what your previous owners did to you. You don't have to tell me, but you're not objects to me. You are living beings who deserve to live a good life. You can call my home yours too. You are allowed to have possessions too.”

“That is…noted…”

The next few minutes were shrouded in silence, but it wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary, Michikatsu actually seemed to enjoy the way you gently massaged his scalp with your fingertips while you shampooed his hair. You enjoyed these domestic activities. To take care of someone. To make them feel good. You hadn't done that for a very long time because you had also been alone for a long time. Being alone was painful-

Before you could delve into your dark thoughts, you noticed an odd smell and was startled. Did you leave something on the stove? No, it smelled way too pleasant for that.

Michikatsu noticed your twitch, but he didn't react like you. “Yoriichi has been watching you for days, like me. He’ll probably cook you something while you’re here with me.”

You looked at him in surprise. He wasn't serious, was he? You really wanted to check, but wanted to finish bathing Michikatsu.

“Go… I’ll wash up and join you…”

You nodded and walked into the kitchen where you saw Yoriichi standing at the stove with your pink apron on. He looked at you and gave you a smile. “Since you take such good care of us, I wanted to prepare something for you. I read that miso soup is very popular and you had the ingredients for it. Do you like miso soup with silken tofu?”

You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of him looking so adorable with your pink apron. “Yes, I love miso soup.”

~ ~ ~

Ever since Kokushibo spoke to you, you were sure that all three of you were getting along very well. You ate together, laughed and talked. Well mainly you talked, because the two of them enjoyed listening to you talk and you finally had the feeling that someone actually wanted to listen to you too. And of course you cared for them too. Pampered them, washed their backs and bought them what they wanted even if that was not much. Yoriichi had once told you that it was enough that you would treat them well as you did now. This always made you question what terrible things had been done to them. How would they dare to treat them badly? You didn't want to think too deeply about it. If they didn’t want to talk and think about it then who were you to do so?

“Ouch!”

You looked at your finger which was starting to bleed. You quickly put your bleeding finger under running water to rinse out the dirt and checked out the wound. Shit, the cut was deeper than expected. Suddenly you felt Michikatsu’s presence very close to you. You jumped. Even after weeks, you couldn't get used to how quietly the two of them moved around the apartment. He looked down at you and your bleeding finger.

“Don’t worry, it’ll stop bleeding soon.” You weren't sure if you were saying this more to yourself than to him, but he wasn't deterred. He took your hand and put your finger in his mouth, licking the blood off. You looked at him with wide eyes. You were even more surprised when he suddenly took you in his arms and carried you to the couch and sat down, you sitting sideways on his lap, taking your bleeding finger into his mouth again.

You were literally puzzled, but he didn't seem to mind. You had been in the middle of cooking and wanted to tell him so, but he just gave you a look which silenced you.

“Clumsy human, let Yoriichi do the cooking and let me take care of your wound.”

You wanted to say something in response but didn't know what. You had already seen Yoriichi scurrying into the kitchen but were distracted again when Michikatsu gently nibbled on your finger and put it in his mouth.

Since that time he always looked for moments to distract himself by nibbling on your fingers. He seemed to have an oral fixation, or he just liked it. Either way, he seemed to be enjoying it and it didn't bother you, so you let him have his way. It also gave you the chance to look at him up close, as he often didn't allow that.

Michikatsu noticed this of course. “You’re not at all disgusted by my appearance.”

“Why should I?” You did not understand the question.

“Are my eyes not too scary for you?”

Oh, this is what it was about… “Is this why you always keep all eyes closed and just look with one?”

“No, I keep them closed so that I don’t have sensory overload and… so that you aren’t afraid of me.”

“So I was right?”

He kept silent and you gave him a soft smile. “Please close your eyes.” He did as you asked. You moved closer to him ever so slowly and gently kissed each of his 6 eyelids. When you let go he looked at you in surprise, his 6 eyes wide. This was the first time you could see the emotions so strong on his face. “You are not a monster and never will be to me.”

~ ~ ~

“You are not jealous, right?” you asked Yoriichi, while he was sitting patiently in front of you as you brushed his long beautiful hair.

He shook his head. “No, why should I?”

“Well… Because I give your brother so much more attention than you.” It was a little bit uncomfortable to admit this, but it was true. Michikatsu was very demanding and jealous from time to time, even if you don’t give him much reason for it. But yet, anytime you were close to Yoriichi or spending time with him, he immediately snatched you away in silence and nibbled on your fingers.

“But I did ask you to do so, right?”

“I mean, yes you did. But I still feel bad about it. You deserve my attention as much as Michikatsu.”

Yoriichi took your hand, it seemed like the brothers had a fixation with your hands, and kissed your knuckles as he always does when he wants to show his gratitude. “Sitting here with you, hearing you talk, while you touch me so affectionately, is everything I ever wanted.”

Yoriichi were always able to hit you with the right words and gestures. You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the crown of his head. “You are such a good boy and deserve the whole world.” You felt Yoriichi shiver from your words.

~ ~ ~

Months passed, the season changed and it was winter. That meant the Christmas markets opened very soon! You were excited because you wanted to show the brothers how beautiful the markets can be. Of course they needed to wear collars, since demon companions were required to wear one by law. You hated it, since you were not able to forget the painful device Michikatsu had had to wear, but you had to adhere to the law. You decided to get the type that was demon friendly without the wisteria pouch for both of them.

The three of you strolled through the Christmas market, Michikatsu to your left and Yoriichi to your right, and you received a lot of attention. You didn't know if it was because of their height or because of their distinguishing face marks. It could also be due to Michikatsu’s threatening aura, or the fact that they had two horns which identified them as purebloods - a very rare sight to see.

It wasn't important to you. The only important thing was that they had fun like you did and got as many impressions as possible. You curiously looked at all the stands and came across a woodcarver that had beautiful pieces to offer when you suddenly saw a wooden puzzle box. Himitsu-bako. You took it carefully and stared at it, fascinated. You always wanted to try it. The idea to get so fixated with a riddle was so appealing to you that you asked about the price. He named the price. You thanked him, placing the puzzle back down, and went to the next stall.

“Why didn’t you buy the puzzle box? You seemed very interested in it.” Yoriichi looked at you questioningly, while Michikatsu lingered in the back, his attention somewhere else.

“Oh, it was a bit too expensive. I wanted to have money for candied apples and to buy you two something you want! The puzzle has no priority.” You gave him a bright smile as the cold air made your cheeks blush.

You threw yourself onto your couch immediately when you got home. Man, you were exhausted. Yoriichi and Michikatsu didn't even seem to show any signs of exhaustion, but you clearly were. Walking for hours had drained you and you just wanted to relax now. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

As usual, they sat down on the couch on either side of you as you made yourself comfortable. It wasn’t long until your head was resting on Yoriichi's lap, him playing softly with your hair while Michikatsu massaged your calves that were sore from all the walking. You felt so comfortable and safe that it didn't take long for you to fall asleep and you missed over half of the movie. You didn’t notice how Yoriichi gently lifted you into his arms and carried you to bed or how he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead while you cuddled yourself onto your blanket.

~ ~ ~

"What is this?" You stared at the small box that was placed in front of you and you didn't hesitate to pick up. It didn't take long for you to realize what it was. It was a wooden puzzle box. Himitsu-baku! You looked excitedly at the beautiful piece. “But where did you get that from, Michi-kun?”

“Michikatsu is very skilled in wood carving,” Yoriichi replied as Michikatsu watched you with interest. “He made me a flute too, see?” He took out the little flute and showed it to you.

You looked at the beautiful piece in awe and then looked over at Michikatsu. “Michi-kun, I didn’t know you were so talented! Yori-kun, can you play on that?”

Yoriichi didn't hesitate and played some soft tunes. You clapped your hands enthusiastically. “You two are so talented!” You watched as Michikatsu turned away and hid his face behind his hair. Was he blushing? You probably saw it wrong… You looked back at your box. These were some refined skills, which made you wonder.

“It never occurred to me to ask you about your hobbies or what activities you like to do…” You felt guilty because until now they had always obediently gone along with everything you wanted but you never asked what they wanted.

The brothers looked at each other, visibly confused by your change of topic. This time Michikatsu spoke to answer your question. “We enjoy…training kendo together… But our previous owners didn’t like it at all… They got scared… Also we always lack the space and the necessary tools.”

"Tools?"

“A bokken, but a simple wooden broomstick will do too,” Yoriichi explained to her.

"Oh! I think I can organize that! Also a place for you to train! The apartment complex has an unused backyard. We can go there in the evening! As often as you want too!”

You three were at the said place. You were not able to find a bokken, but Yoriichi had said that broomsticks are enough for now. You can get them the necessary equipment later. Oh, how happy they would be, you thought excitedly to yourself.

Now you sat in a corner, lulled in your jacket as you watched the two brothers standing in front of each other. They first bowed respectfully and then it began. Their movements were so fluid and elegant that you were barely able to look away. It was a dance between two brothers who couldn't be more different. Like the sun and moon, Yin and yang. You weren't sure who would emerge victorious, but you were still surprised to see Michikatsu a few minutes later on the ground.

Another fight. Michikatsu was on the ground again. It went on like this until the yukatas were thrown over their shoulders, hanging down from the Hakamas. They were both suddenly topless, the cold didn't seem to bother them. You felt heat creeping into you. It wasn't like you'd never seen them topless before, since you washed and bathed them both from time to time. But now they are training. The muscles rippled in harmony with their movements, it was only then that you realized how incredibly sexy they both actually were.

Both were muscular and strongly built. Yoriichi a little leaner than Michikatsu. Your eyes wandered and you couldn't get enough of what was presented in front of you. Wandering up and down until they stopped on the seductive V-line of the two of them. Your eyes switched back and forth and you had to suppress a sigh as Michikatsu lunged forward, flexing his big biceps.

It didn't take long for you to get wet and dampen your panties. Crap. That was not good. You couldn’t be horny for your demons! That's irresponsible! Both of them had immediately stopped and stared at you as if they knew something. You blushed like a tomato.

“It seems like Y/N is cold. We should go home,” Yoriichi said as he put his yukata back on.

Michikatsu nodded and did the same and you were happy that demons were not able to notice things like that, right?

~ ~ ~

You laid in bed, frustrated, not being able to finish what you had started. Fuck, why can’t I come already? For the past hour you were touching yourself, trying to get rid of this horniness and the lewd thoughts that bothered you all evening. But it didn't work!

You huffed, frustrated, pulling your hands from your pants, and rested your arm on your forehead. It has been a while since you touched yourself. Was it possible to unlearn things like that? You didn’t know. What you did know was that you were exhausted and wanted to sleep but the hot images of the two brothers haunted you badly.

Your thoughts were interrupted by soft knocking. “May we come in?” It was Yoriichi’s soft voice.

You immediately gathered yourself and sat straight in your bed. “Um, y-yes, sure!” The door opened slowly and the two brothers entered your bedroom. “Were you both not able to sleep?”

No answer, only gazes as Michikatsu sat down at the end of your bed and gently massaged your calves while Yoriichi sat close to you and held your hands in his. Normally you didn't have a problem with them being so touchy, you were happy to give them whatever they wanted and secretly you enjoyed it too, but at the moment it wasn't so good. Because you were a bit oversensitive due to your frustration.

Yoriichi looked at you with his soft maroon eyes as he cupped your face. “We sensed your troubles.”

Your furrowed your eyebrows. “My troubles?”

Michikatsu’s hands were gliding a little bit higher onto your thigh. “Yes, your arousal.”

You didn’t know if you were blushing because of the embarrassment of being caught or the feeling of his hands being so close to your core. It also didn’t help that Yoriichi lowered his head closer to your face and talked in his soft beguiling voice. “There is no need to be ashamed, Y/N. You always make sure that we feel good. You care about us so much, never seeing a monster in us. We want to give it back to you…” With each word he came closer, until his lips were on yours. His kiss was so soft and loving that you sighed into the kiss. Yoriichi took that as an invitation for his tongue.

While Yoriichi distracted you with his sensual kiss, you felt Michikatsu slowly dragging your pants along with your underwear down and spreading your legs. “Brother, she smells so intoxicating…” You felt his breath close to your pussy.

Yoriichi, who let go of you briefly to let you catch a breath, answered his brother. “Her lips are sweeter than anything I’ve tasted before.”

Michikatsu did not wait and licked at your slick like a hungry cat and groaned. “You are right… She tastes like heaven…” With these words he dove into your core and lavished on your juices. You let out a surprised moan as you threw your head back. Your hand grabbed desperately at Yoriichi’s yukata who just watched you, fascinated, and then kissed you again. But he didn’t stay on your lips for long. His mouth traveled down your neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. You felt how his hands were slowly pushing up your loose shirt to cup one of your boobs and massaging it slowly with one hand. His mouth also found his destination and kissed and sucked on your other nipple.

So many sensations at the same time and you were not sure what to focus on. The knot inside you tightened, and suddenly everything exploded. You came with a loud moan as you threw your head back once again.

Michikatsu’s lower eyes were closed, his face glistening in your juices. He pushed a single finger into you just to let Yoriichi lick it off. You watched the interaction between them both. It was like he wanted him to know how you tasted. You saw how Yoriichi’s pupils dilated as he tasted your sweet nectar. It was such a lewd image that it made you sigh in anticipation.

You heard your bedsheet ruffle and watched as the brothers swapped their places. Suddenly Michikatsu was in your face, kissing you greedily on the mouth, not letting you take a breath. You were able to taste yourself on his lips but you didn’t mind it at all. Not even that he used his teeth, because all of that was washed away by Yoriichi's tongue and mouth, who was now the one eating you out.

There was a clear difference between the two. Yoriichi was definitely gentler, as were the tongue strokes along your outer labia. Or the way he sucked on your clit. Your left hand was on his head, tangled into his soft waves as you pushed him closer to your cunt, feeling how close you were again.

Your other hand was on Michikatsu, who was pinching your nipples, making you wince and twitch every time, forcing you to keep your attention on him. It was a lot to handle. Lots of feelings and desires at once that you didn't know how to deal with. But they were so strong, able to hold you still while they feasted on you.

Yoriichi hit a point with his tongue that made you come with a loud cry. The waves of the orgasm were so intense that it left you trembling. You had never cum twice in a row in your life.

Yoriichi wiped his face with the back of his hand. Both brothers watched you in awe as you layed there, exhausted from your orgasm.

“She is so beautiful… I want to mark her.”

“Later, when we are inside of her.”

“I am not sure if her bed is able to carry us three.”

“Yes, we should move her to our room with the futons.”

You were not able to distinguish who said what, since your brain felt like mush, but that was not important. You were suddenly lifted up and carried by someone. Your cheek resting on a strong chest. You realized that you were all naked. When did they undress you? You opened your eyes slowly to see his beautiful maroon eyes. “Yori-kun…”

You felt his lips on your forehead and then on your lips again, making you sigh again and heating up the desire in your lower belly.

“Do you think she can take us both?

“She is stronger than you think.”

“I know.” These two words were said in such loving affection that it made your heart flutter.

“Hey… I am still here,” you protested. “You both prepped me so well I… I think I can handle that.”

"Oh, you do?” The first time in your life you saw how Michikatsu smirked at you as he snatched you away from Yoriichi and sat you down on his lap.

You felt his hardened cock close to your core, but your eyes were fixated on that smirk of his. He was “...gorgeous…” You leaned forward, your hands on his muscular chest as you kissed him oh so softly. It seemed like he didn’t expect that softness. Never did he expect anything, though he deserved all the softness and kindness.

You poured all your love into the kiss, playing with his hair, nudging his tongue against yours and biting at his lower lip. He groaned and got impatient. He picked you up by your thighs and placed you on the tip of his dick and let you sink down very slowly. “Michi..!” You whimpered and shuddered at the fullness and how good it felt.

He bottomed out and didn’t move, letting you adjust. Until you moved your hips. “Impatient human,” he murmured as he started sucking on your tit.

You didn't stay still though as you slowly moved your hips and started riding him. His hands grabbed your thighs tightly to help you. Michikatsu couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of your tightness around him. Gosh, it felt so good hearing those noises coming out of him, knowing that you were the cause of it. Making you feel that you had a tiny bit of control even if it was not like that at all.

Suddenly you felt his hands on your waist, moving up to cup your breasts and kneading them; you also felt his lips kissing along your spine, making you shiver as you still moved on top of Michikatsu. You smiled and when his kisses reached your shoulder, you tried to turn your head to look at him, to give him a kiss. Yoriichi came closer but you were interrupted by Michikatsu, who grabbed your chin and turned your head back to him, just to claim your lips harshly and groan into the kiss.

“H-Hey-” you panted after he left you breathless. “Stop being jealous. I want to kiss Yoriichi too!”

Michikatsu was about to respond when Yoriichi picked you up into his arms without warning. With one fluid movement Michikatsu’s dick slid out of you and you could only go “Oh!” at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Even Michikatsu breathed out harshly at the sudden change and glared at you both.

“Now it's my turn.” You giggled at him teasing his brother and slung your arms over Yoriichi’s neck, your legs around his waist. It was clear that he missed your kisses and you were glad to give him all he could ever want. You started kissing him all over his face - his cheek, his nose, his eyes, and then his lips. You both couldn’t hold back moaning into the kiss when he suddenly sheathed himself into you. You at the fullness he was giving you, and him because you were so tight around his cock.

You marveled at his strength as he held you up so easily, starting to move inside of you at a slow pace. You felt safe in his arms; you knew he wouldn’t even think of dropping you.

You felt the jealous glare on your back and it didn’t take long until Michikatsu got up to stand behind you. One of his hands pushed your hair aside so he was able to kiss and nibble on your left shoulder. You felt his chest pressed on your back as his fingers slid up to spread your wetness and lube you up with additional saliva. It was a strange feeling, but not unwelcome, as Yoriichi’s careful thrusts distracted you from Michikatsu’s motions behind you.

Soon enough, he retracted his fingers and replaced them with his tip. He was so careful with you - a contrast to his earlier roughness - moving in tandem with Yoriichi to bring you pleasure rather than pain. The feeling of them both inside you was overwhelming and you didn’t know what else to do other than to hold tightly onto Yoriichi’s shoulder, your nails digging into his skin.

Michikatsu’s hands joined Yoriichi’s on your thighs. It felt as if the heat of their touch burned you to the core and even if you wanted to get out, it was impossible. You were placed so tightly between the two brothers, moving in sync into you, you could not move at all.

One of your hands reached behind you so you could grab onto Michikatsu’s neck. The other one still gripping onto Yoriichi. The angle changed, and you saw stars, clenching tightly around both of them making them both groan. They sped up, the pleasure bringing tears to your eyes.

“Please…!” You begged, not knowing what for, but it seemed like they knew.

You were not sure if you saw it correctly as your brain was not able to comprehend anything logical at that moment but you saw a change in Yoriichi’s face as if he was communicating with his brother.

The knot inside you tightened for the third time that night. You cried out their names as they thrusted harder into you making your vision blur. This time your release was more intense than you’d ever experienced, but before it could ebb away you felt teeth on both of your shoulders.

You could only cry out and everything went black.

~ ~ ~

Ah shit... Why does my shoulder hurt so much?

You woke up between two muscle-bound bodies and didn't know where you were until you remembered the last night. “Oh fuck…” you whispered and immediately put your hand over your mouth when someone started to grumble in annoyance. Did you wake one of them? Suddenly you were pulled by a strong hand and pressed against a muscular chest. “Stop thinking too much, human, sleep a little bit more. You need rest.”

You looked up into the face of Michikatsu, who had narrowed one of his lower eyes to look at you. You couldn't contradict him because you felt tiredness overcoming you again and you fell back into a deep sleep, safe in his arms.

You woke up again, but this time on Yoriichi's chest, who was playing with your hair. “Good morning.”

“Good morning…” You yawned and looked around, realizing that you both were alone on the futons. “Where is Michikatsu…?”

“He is preparing a bath for you. How do you feel?” He watched you as he waited for your answer.

How did you feel? You were not sure if you thought about last night. Did you regret it? No… But your shoulders were killing you. “My shoulders hurt and I feel sore, but that’s it.”

“Oh, that’s because we marked you.”

“Marked me?”

“Yes,” he smiled at you, “We are now mates.”

Mates… Wait what?! Was that even possible between a human and demons? You heard about this rumour that demons were able to mate each other, but fuck… This was the last thing you ever expected. “What will happen now?”

“First of all you are going to take a bath while we take care of you.” Michikatsu appeared at the door frame as he looked at the both of you, laying naked on top of each other.

~ ~ ~

Even if it was weird in the beginning you quickly got used to the idea of being mated to both of your demons. You hadn’t been sure what to do with the situation and called your friend, who just told you that she had also got mated with her demon. It was not a common thing at all, actually unheard of, but here you were, having not one but two demon mates.

You asked them if that was something common, to have two demons, but they shook their heads. “It’s probably because we are twins and very attached to each other. Perhaps it was inevitable we would share a mate,” Yoriichi told you, while he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“Who would have thought that we would mate with a clumsy human?” You saw the smirk on Michikatsu’s face that now happened to appear more after that night. He seated himself next to you both and snatched you away from Yoriichi again. It seemed like a game between the two brothers at this point - as if they were not able to share a toy.

You faux-sulked. You just took his face into your hands and gave him a long loving kiss. Then you felt how he placed something on your lap.

It was a wooden carving of a woman with two tall men at her sides and looking closer, you realized it was the three of you. The gift nearly made you spill tears, touched by his gesture of love.

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flametrashira · 6 months

Text

Bad Pet pt.2

Pairing: demon pet Douma x f!reader

Summary: You and your pet demon, Douma have grown closer in the weeks he has lived with you, your connection growing stronger with each passing day. But everything changes when things go awry on the night of the demon dance, and your bond becomes something you never imagined possible.

Tags: slow-burn. NSFW. Soft dom!reader x sub!Douma. Biting. Marking. Mating. Blood. Sex (including cunnilingus) during menstruation. Nipple play (his). Part 2 approx 12k words.

Dividers by @benkeibear

Read part 1 here

"DOUMA! DOUMA NO!" You shrieked with laughter as you abandoned your purse at the door and ran through the house away from the him. “BAD DEMON!”

Another two weeks had passed since the day he danced for you, and in that time you had grown closer. Petting his hair on the couch was now a part of your nightly routine. You'd figured out a feeding schedule which suited you both. Between Kie, her husband Tanjuro, and their eldest son Tanjiro, the arrangements for the dance had been completely taken out of your hands by the helpful Kamados but you were confident it would go well. It was only a day away and Douma was excited beyond measure.

And this… this new game the two of you played, was now the norm every time you came home from work. The moment you stepped through the door the chase was on. There was no escaping his lanky legs and boisterous tenacity, but running from him was half the fun.

Douma pounced, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you over to the couch where he fell on top of you, the pair of you gasping and giggling as he blew his hair out of his face and grinned.

"Got ya, little bunny."

It was pointless trying to resist (nor did you want to) but you made a show of it anyway, squirming beneath him as he lifted your arm to his mouth and gently bit your wrist, a growl sounding at the back of his throat which made your toes curl.

"I take it you missed me?" you laughed as he gnawed on you.

"Mhm."

"I missed you too."

"Mmh… "

These playbites warmed your heart. It was an immense show of trust from you and restraint from him. His teeth were sharp, his strength supernatural, and yet you felt safe even with such a vulnerable area between his jaws.

Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned in to bite his shoulder, causing him to snort with laughter and release your wrist from his jaws.

“Ah! Such little teeth!”

Despite his amusement, you still immediately felt guilty for doing it. “Did it hurt?”

Your question only made him laugh harder, and the game evolved into an exchange of bites. He repaid you for yours with a nibble on the inside of your elbow which made you squirm. You got him back with a bite to his bicep which had him sucking in a breath between his giggles, on and on, until finally his teeth were an inch from your lips, his breath fanning hot across them as your smiles faded.

“Shall we call it a tie?” he said, his voice soft, gentle, and just for you.

Your chest tightened as you tried to draw breath. The press of his body against yours was delicious torture; terrible and wonderful all at once. Until you saw the anguish in his rainbow eyes as they fell to the scar on your neck.

“I did that,” he whispered, pain evident in his wavering voice. “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to. And it’s all healed up now. There’s no harm done.”

He drew around the scar with the tip of his finger, sending a shiver through your body, a heat which pooled between your thighs.

“Why didn’t you send me away?” he asked.

The question struck you like an arrow to the heart. “Because… you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’ve been sent away for less. By humans I lived with for longer.”

“I’m not them–”

“No… no, you’re not, are you?” He smiled softly and lowered his head to rest his cheek against your chest. With every passing moment your face grew hotter as he coiled his fingers around yours, “May I tell you something. Something I don’t believe was in my file.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“The day I was born I was bought by an elderly couple. I’ve often wondered why they wanted a demon baby instead of a human– maybe cost, maybe because I was interesting, maybe something else. Whatever the reason, they were kind to me.” His eyes grew distant. “The man I was raised to call father had girlfriends. My mother discovered his infidelity and murdered him. Stabbed him forty-seven times in the chest and then turned the knife on herself. I was eight years old and three feet away.”

Your blood ran cold at his story, feeling as though you had just been dropped off a ledge through freezing air. “Oh Douma, I’m so sorry.”

“I felt empty. Nothing. I saw it all happen. I remember their faces, I can still smell the blood. And all I could think about was the mess I had been left to clean. And when I was picked up by the shelter, they called me a monster for it, soulless, evil.”

Anger simmered inside you. No wonder he was closed off emotionally. How could anyone get through that and be okay afterward? Let alone an eight year-old child. And there was no counseling for demons, no therapy, no care. Just abandonment and punishment.

Douma raised his head and smiled. “Your heart is beating so fast, little bunny. Please don’t get upset on my behalf."

“Of course I’m upset. That shouldn’t have happened to you. None of it. And I’m so sorry it did.” Tears welled as you tried to remain calm. The frustration at not being able to do a damn thing about any of it was more than you could bear. “I can’t undo any of it, but I can promise you that your life isn’t going to be like that anymore. Never again.”

Douma simply stared in stunned silence at you. "You care so much, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do. I love–" You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

You were getting overwrought, you told yourself. His story, the intimacy of lying together on the couch… not to mention your hormones. The fact that your period was due any day; it was too much.

"I care about you, Douma. I want you to be okay."

"I am," he assured you. "I'm so happy here with you." With a sigh he lowered his head back down to your chest. "I'm excited to dance with you tomorrow night. I’m excited to dress up and look pretty at my mistress’s side. Since coming to you I've found I'm more and more excited for each tomorrow. I'm happy to wake up, and I fall asleep to hopeful thoughts."

Your hand seemed to move on its own, resting on the back of his head, your fingers threading through the silken strands of his hair. The red patch now covered most of the top of his head, and stroking it elicited a deep, rumbling purr from the depths of his chest.

“You treat me so well,” he murmured. “I want to be with you forever.”

“So do I,” you said, closing your eyes and just enjoying the sensation of being close to him.

"I belong to you," he said, and your heart squeezed.

There was no point in denying it to yourself any longer.

You were in love with a demon.

Your demon.

Your Douma.

“How do I look?” Douma held out his arms and twirled for you in the hallway. Since that night would be a special one, he’d chosen to wear his biggest white hakama pants and a blood-red top which clung faithfully to his figure.

“Amazing!”

“Pretty?”

“Very!”

It filled him with pride whenever you complimented him. Especially now you were more comfortable with it. He didn’t sense that constant anxious hum coming from you as you smiled at him

And he saw your eyes wandering over his torso– oh yes, he most certainly did.

But unlike with his previous owners, your gaze didn’t make him uncomfortable or make him feel like a lifeless object. No, your gaze was a blessing. It tightened a coil in the pit of his belly and made his cheeks grow warm.

And you looked beautiful yourself in your lovely black dress which matched the leather of his harness. But you were struggling with something at the back of your neck, the clasp to a black velvet choker.

“Need help?”

“Yeah… I think so…”

He didn’t even think twice about it, stepping forward to assist you with your necklace, carefully slipping the little golden clasp through its hoop and securing it around your neck. It was only when he was done, when you turned around to face him that his lungs suddenly emptied.

He had just put a collar on you.

A delicate velvet one, yes, but a collar nevertheless. And he adored it on you.

Maybe the significance was entirely in his head, maybe you thought nothing of it, but just for the night he would allow himself to believe that’s what it was. That while you were his mistress, you belonged to him. You belonged to each other; he in his harness and you with your matching collar, letting everyone know you were a pair meant to be together. Oh, he was practically giddy at the thought. Warmth spread from the top of his head to the tips of his toes as he fought back the urge to pounce on you.

He wanted to bite, to chew, to hear you giggle and press his body against yours. And he wanted… he wanted you to claim him in return. He wanted you to fuck him so badly the ache went bone-deep. Soul deep, even. He wanted you to tell him what to do, to please and pleasure you, to obey and fulfill and serve you.

“Thank you,” you said, touching your fingertips to the necklace and giving him a smile which made his heart– and his cock– lift. “Are you ready to dance?”

“I’m so ready.”

He could hardly draw breath the entire journey to the club. Everything you did; the way your fingers slid across the steering wheel, thigh shifting as you switched between the brake and gas, lips parting as you checked the rearview mirror made him burn. The orange glow of streetlights cast you in an ethereal light. He couldn't stop glancing down at the seatbelt snaking between your breasts.

Something was happening to him, that much was clear. Something he had never experienced before. He'd never found himself so hot and bothered by literally every movement. Even the subtle sounds of your breaths made his cock ache.

"You're so beautiful, mistress," he said, enjoying the way your blush crept over your cheeks.

You didn't speak, but you didn't have to. He could feel your attraction to him, feel your conflict, your desire, your hunger. You wanted to devour him as badly as he wanted you.

You were nervous in a different way than usual. It was contagious.

Soon the roads became faintly familiar, and when the train tracks came into view his mind started to whirr. "Where are we going?"

"Check the glovebox…"

He did as you asked and found a simple black collar nestled away. "What–?"

"Well, I couldn't stop thinking about how you asked if Enmu could come to the dance, so I stopped by to see him the other day after work and talked to him about it. He said he'll wear a collar just for a little while and pretend he's mine. And he'll be on his best behavior."

A wave of emotion hit Douma, a negative emotion so sudden and powerful it startled him. It was new and uncomfortable. And it made no sense at all. He was touched that yet again you had gone out of your way to give him something he'd asked for– something illegal to boot. But there was also something less pleasant welling inside him, burning in the center of his chest. He felt sick when he imagined you putting the collar onto the dream demon.

"Douma? Are you okay?"

He remembered himself and put on a bright smile. "Just peachy!"

You gave him a sidelong glance. "You sure?"

"Positive!"

“It’s just for tonight, and we’ll drop him right back off at the shed when we’re done.” Your brow furrowed, still keeping your eyes on the road but stealing glances in his direction, constantly checking on him as though you could read his mind. And when you finally pulled up outside the abandoned train shed you turned to him, eyes full of concern. “Douma… did I overstep? Was this the wrong thing to do?”

Oh, you sweet anxious little bunny. Of course you would think that. Of course your gut reaction was to assume you did wrong. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, hoping his touch would reassure you where his words had failed to do so. “Not at all, my lamb. Never.”

The way your breath hitched at his gesture made his throat tighten.

Gods, what was this… this feeling between the two of you? It was akin to ravenous hunger, but rather than feeling it in his belly it was in every cell of his body. He’d enjoyed sex before but he’d never craved it this way. If he gave in to his urges he’d have you right there in the car.

Your lips parted as your eyes met his, shivers of excitement tingling across the surface of his skin. You leaned toward him, and he toward you. The space between you closed and he found himself sucking in a breath of anticipation.

A presence just in front of the car drew Douma’s attention, and he turned to see Enmu standing just a few feet away from the hood, illuminated by the headlights of the car.

“Fuck!” You gasped in shock, covering your heart with your hand before bursting into laughter. “I should have gotten him a collar with a bell on it. He scared the shit out of me.”

Douma chuckled, but that nauseating sickness returned as the dream demon climbed into the back of the car and sat in the middle seat.

“Good evening,” Enmu said in a voice so soft it sounded as though it would shatter. “Oh, human… your heart is racing. Did I startle you?”

“Yeah, a little,” you laughed as you handed him the collar.

“How wonderful!”

And just like that, the exchange was over. You didn’t put the collar on Enmu at all, he did it to himself. The quiet metallic click from the back seat set Douma’s heart at ease.

He was still your one and only pet.

You were still his mistress and no one else's.

The rest of the car ride was as pleasant as can be, with Enmu cooing in the back seat over the dreams he could feel coming from the apartment complexes you drove by. You gave Douma a passing sidelong glance, the corner of your lips curving into a smile just for him. Oh how he adored you, how he wanted you, how he needed you.

By the time you pulled up in the parking lot of the Crimson Lily every muscle in his body was tense with the urge to pounce upon you, fuck you, lick you, bite, kiss, gods, anything. He didn’t even care that Enmu was there. He would have fucked you right in front of him if you wouldn’t mind it. His body was alight with desire; an intense and all consuming heat.

Heat.

Was that what this was? Was he finally going into heat for real for the first time in his life. The prospect was thrilling and mortifying all at once. He wasn’t entirely naive about it all. He knew what going into heat entailed: the fevers, the ravenous desire, the suffering if his urges were not satiated. And he knew he wanted to satiate those urges with you. Only you.

It wasn’t even supposed to be possible for demons and humans to mate, and yet he couldn’t deny the call of his biology. It wasn’t another demon. It was you. It had to be you.

Would you even allow it though? You were always so anxious about not taking advantage of him, of not allowing yourself to give in to your own desire because of the power balance you perceived between the two of you. It didn’t matter to you that he was bigger, stronger, equipped with sharp fangs and lethal claws. All you saw was your title; Mistress, and the responsibility you felt because of it. The guilt.

As you headed into the club together, lured by the siren's call of heavy bass lines and neon light, he placed his palm on your lower back, desperate to make contact, feeling overwhelming comfort just from the warmth of your skin beneath his hand. And the way that you smiled at him, so full of pride at your pretty pet… God… he wanted you. And he was going to go mad if he didn't have you.

"Oh wow!" the club's owner practically purred the moment she laid eyes on Douma. "Well, hello there, beautiful."

Your body stiffened as the gorgeous white-haired woman reached out to scratch your demon affectionately beneath the chin.

Her wide blue eyes drifted over his features. "Do you like to dance, pet?"

"Oh, of course I love to dance!" Douma said, his face alight with excitement as he leaned into the affection with a wide grin.

It shouldn't have made you feel, well, anything, but you couldn't deny the wave of nausea in the pit of your stomach. Oh, you could kid yourself that it was purely because she’d touched him without his permission, or you were worried about him being exploited, but you knew there was a little more to it than that. The truth was, as the woman continued to shower Douma in praise and affection, you were jealous.

“You have such a pretty face! God, look at your eyes! And that body. Wow! No horns or marks so you’re not a purebred, and you’re not ugly so not a simple mutt either. You’re a designer breed, right? You've gotta be.” At last she turned to you, "He'd do well here, if you ever want to rent him out to us. There's a small but avid clientele for demons, especially pretty ones. You’d make a fat wad from him."

The money wasn’t tempting in the slightest, but the excitement in Douma’s smile was enough to stop you dismissing it outright. “We’ll think about it.”

The owner tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows, as if offended you hadn’t bitten off her hand at the offer. “One human, two demons, right?”

“Right,” you confirmed as she took your credit card and swiped it, paying you into the club.

“Ume!” A man’s voice called from the club’s security office. “For fuck’s sake, the one you’re going all gaga over doesn’t even have a collar on! He can’t come in.” A moment later he appeared, raking a bony hand through his tousled green hair. “You never were the smartest. Good thing I’m here to help keep this place running.”

“Shut up!” the woman snapped. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Wait, but he’s wearing a harness,” you said, your heart rate spiking with panic as you realized you might have been careless. Maybe you’d screwed up and ruined Douma’s night already.

Your demon simply smiled and gave his leash a confident tug. “I’m a bad pet,” he said, his voice dripping with seduction as he stepped closer to you. “I have to wear a harness instead of a collar. It gives my mistress more control over me. She makes sure I'm a good boy."

The green-haired security guard frowned, his gaze falling to you, then Enmu, and finally Douma. “I’m going to be watching you three closely tonight, and if I suspect you’re putting the rest of the guests in danger, you’re out. Understand? I don’t care what my idiot little sister says, we have a no tolerance policy against fighting.”

“We’ll be good,” you assured him, relief crashing over you as the heat rose on your cheeks.

"Go on in," the woman said, jutting her chin toward the door.

You walked into the main room of the club, flanked by Douma and Enmu on the end of their leashes as the brother and sister bickered behind you. Their argument was quickly drowned out by the music coming from within.

The main room, or lounge as the red neon sign above the doorway called it, was bathed in crimson light as sumptuous music blasted from the speakers. A handful of demons were socializing and dancing on the dancefloor. A long stage took up the center of the room, and on that stage were two silver poles and a giant glittering bird cage. No one was dancing up there. Not yet, anyway.

You were early, but there were already dozens of demons and their humans socializing with each other, and it only took you a moment to locate the Kamados. You turned around to let Douma and Enmu know the names of the demons but found Enmu had disappeared, his leash hanging loose in your hand.

Shit.

“Where did he go?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you scanned the surrounding booths for signs of the dream demon.

“He’ll be back, Mistress,” Douma said, leaning down to put his lips close to your ear, combating the noise from the music. “Don’t worry about anything tonight, okay? Let's just have… fun.”

With every gentle brush of his lips against the shell of your ear your heart fluttered. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your body reacting to his touch with shivers of electricity and rising heat.

The bass vibrated through your body as Douma’s hand returned to the curve of your back, his claws drawn just a little, their caress sending tingles right to your core. With just a simple touch, he managed to empty the air from your lungs and send heat pooling between your thighs.

The sex-drenched atmosphere in the club, the pounding music, Douma's touch, his scent, his beauty, it was more than you could stand, and you’d only been there for two minutes.

You tried to keep your composure as Kie and Tanjuro Kamado waved over at you, the couple already talking to a number of guests and playing the part of the gracious party hosts. Some part of you–okay, a big part–was grateful they'd taken the planning away from you. You were completely free to enjoy yourself–to enjoy your time with Douma.

The pair of you headed to a booth, squeezing behind the table to sit on the plush red leather bench behind. Your thigh pressed against his as you sat close, sending frissons of excitement through your body.

Gods, what were you doing? What were you thinking?

The sight of him in that damn harness, his chest now so full and soft from all your care it made your pussy wet just to look at. The urge to touch him, caress him, make him blush and whimper and feel– It was all-consuming. Strapped up on the end of your leash, his big, pretty eyes and charismatic smile just full of adoration… he was too beautiful. Too tempting. You couldn’t stand it.

"Do you want me to take off your leash so you can socialize?" You asked, yelling above the music and unsure of what you wanted the answer to be.

Douma simply smiled, and leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder. "No, mistress, I want to stay with you."

He stayed like that for a long time, quietly watching the other demons dance, his fingers curling around the leash connecting you.

Every breath was a struggle as you kept looking ahead, watching as the Kamado’s eldest son hurried around with an eager smile, chatting to various guests and doing whatever he could to keep the party going. It would have been a good distraction, if not for the way Douma’s breaths fanned across the top of your breasts and made your flesh pebble.

“You came,” a dark, enchanting voice said by your ear. You found yourself side-by-side with Muzan, the Kamado’s demon. You hadn't even noticed him squeeze into the booth beside you, and from the way he shot upright, neither had Douma.

Muzan wore an elegant black suit, with a matching black and gold paisley collar, which disguised the discreet but powerful shock pack which was capable of issuing electric shocks to subdue him should he get out of hand.

“Oh, hi Muzan,” you greeted him with a warm smile he did not return. Controlling your breathing, you tried to appear unaffected by the flood of arousal coursing through your body. But a moment later you felt a gentle pressure on your shoulder as the older demon nuzzled it in greeting as he always did when you’d prepared his food in the past. You couldn’t help but feel a little fond of the curmudgeonly old guy. “Of course I came! This was really Douma’s idea—”

Crimson eyes darted over your head, and Muzan’s pupils narrowed as he glowered in Douma’s direction. His lips parted around a silent syllable but promptly snapped shut.

Something unspoken passed between Douma and Muzan, something you felt you had only ever seen on wildlife documentaries; a deep, primal rivalry.

The air between them–the air you occupied– crackled with energy, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You could have sworn you heard a low growl pass between the two demons even above the music. Muzan’s eyes were murderous, but Douma… Douma was simply smiling, unfazed, unblinking, and that was somehow just as intimidating.

“Hey,” you said, though which demon you were addressing you hadn’t quite decided. You only knew you had to say something to relieve the tension. “Douma… do you want to dance with me?”

Muzan’s intense glare fell to you as you reached behind you and took Douma’s hand in yours, not even considering how it would look to the other humans and their demon pets who were all free to roam or led properly on their leashes. None of them were holding hands, only you and he.

“Oh my my, mistress,” he said as the warmth returned to his smile. His opaline eyes flashed with excitement, the tension with Muzan seemingly forgotten. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The music blared, but the pounding of Douma's heartbeat in his ears thundered even louder. You kept hold of his leash of course, but you were also brazenly holding his hand in front of everyone! Like you were proud to be his mistress, claiming him as he longed to claim you.

Oh goodness, the music, the light, the eyes of every demon and human on the pair of you as you led him to the dancefloor. The shy little smile you gave him as you turned to face him made his chest ache. Leave it to you to be concerned about the opinions of others.

You were close, but there were still a few inches of space between you, the tone of your dance playful and innocent despite the sexual undertones of the music. He twirled you, spinning you around as you laughed, the way he sometimes did at the end of the chase game right before it turned to biting.

He took great pleasure in your delighted squeal as he lifted you up onto the little stage and joined you a moment later, not giving you time to worry as he gripped the pole and spun around it the way his old owners had him do. Only this time there was no pressure, no demands to perform for party goers or for foreplay. No, this was what he wanted. He wanted to be sexy for you, he wanted to display his body, his muscles, his strength. Because he wanted to be a good mate for you; a mate to be proud of, who could protect you with his life and submit to you in bed.

And then the music changed. It was a song made for closeness, for slow grinding, for fucking, and the longer it went on, the longer Douma couldn’t stand the distance between you.

People were watching but he couldn’t have cared less as he snaked his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, until your bodies were pressed together, your breath heating his lips, your eyes dancing over his face as you rocked in harmony with the music.

Dancing with you like that was heaven and hell, every cell in his body was alight with desire and need, so close and yet so far to what he wanted. His cock ached as your hips moved with his, your arm sliding around his shoulders, fingers splayed across his muscles as he maneuvered you between the pole and his body.

Douma was intoxicated by the scent of you; your body, your arousal. He could smell it on you, it poured from you and flooded his senses. And there was something else. Blood. You were very close to menstruating. Gods, and that scent was more than he could bear.

Feral need flooded him, and before he knew what was happening the dance turned to something far more intimate. His hips rolled against you, his thigh pressing between yours, the little startled cry of pleasure you emitted making him harder than he had ever been in his life.

God, he needed you, he needed to whisk you away that instant, take you to a bathroom stall and beg you to ride him until he couldn’t take anymore. He needed to bite you, mark you and be marked, claim you and be claimed, mate with you, live and die with you. You were everything. Everything. And you were in his arms, flushed, lips quivering, your body reacting to his. His owner. His mistress. His.

“Douma—”

He was delirious with need as he ground his pelvis against you, his cock weeping at the thought of your pussy separated by only thin fabrics his claws could make such short work of. Rubbing himself against you, he pressed his face to your neck, a desperate whine escaping him as his grip tightened around the pole.

“Douma…” you gasped his name, gripping his shoulders and pulling back from him. “Douma we need to stop.”

Your tone was firm and final. His breaths were hard, his body tingling from top to bottom, and it hurt to draw back from you, the distance sending spears of agony through him, but he did it. He pulled back. He stopped dancing. Because disobeying you, hurting you, scaring you, having you look at him with such fear and disappointment was worse than all of it. And the shame. The shame was crushing.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” he said, his hand instinctively coming up to cover the clip connecting his harness to the leash. “I was bad, wasn’t I?”

You glanced around at the crowd. A few were watching, visibly perturbed by what they’d witnessed. And of course, you hated that. He smelled the anxiety spike in you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m sorry–” was all he could manage.

You drew in a breath, filling your lungs and shaking your head. “It’s okay. I… I was dancing with you too. But maybe it isn’t such a good idea for tonight.”

His heart shattered at that. He’d looked forward to dancing with you for so long and he’d ruined it in a matter of minutes.

"I'll be good," he said, the desperation in his heart cracking his voice. "I'll be a good pet for you. Please dance with me again. I need to feel— I need you, mistress."

"We can later… maybe. I need to take a break. I need to find Enmu," you said, looking away from him. "I'll be back in a minute I just… I need to cool off for a second, okay?"

He understood. It hurt but he got it. Humans and demons weren't supposed to do the things he wanted to do with you. And you were so anxious about everything all the time, he was a fool to even hope you might have accepted it. He was definitely a fool for letting his physical urges take over in public, elevated on the stage where everyone could see.

You climbed down leaving him up there like a lonely statue on a plinth beside the metal cage meant for dancing. And it hurt. Somehow just you walking away from him for a moment hurt worse than every other owner sending him to the shelter. It hurt worse than the moment he overheard that he was to be destroyed.

It hurt because he had disappointed you. And it hurt because he loved you so completely that pain and happiness were intertwined.

He pulled in a breath as he watched you walk away, his body still throbbing with that deep, primitive heat he would endure for eternity if it meant re-earning your trust. He would be good. So good for you.

“How abhorrent,” Muzan snarled from the bottom of the stage. “You’re in heat and want to mate with your owner–is that correct?”

The hairs on the back of Douma’s neck bristled. It was clear this demon was powerful and angry.

“It’s an abomination,” the older demon continued, pulling himself up onto the stage without any effort. “And I won’t allow it.”

Before Douma could react, Muzan shoved him, his palms hitting Douma’s chest with such force it sent him flying back into the cage. The earth shook as the back of Douma’s head smacked against a metal bar,

“I should kill you,” Muzan said, slamming the door and holding it closed.

Try as he might, Douma couldn’t even open it a crack. Panic gripped him, closing his throat, chilling his blood. Yet again he was left alone in a cage. Only this time he wasn’t numb. This time he was terrified. Fear drowned out logic, and every sinew in his body screamed at him to escape, to get back to you. “Let me out!”

“No. You belong in a cage. You don’t deserve to be let free. Despicable, perverse, twisted creature. Your beloved mistress should have left you to die.’

“LET ME OUT!” he cried. “LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT!”

Muzan’s blank stare turned to a smirk, his pale hands gripping the same metal bars as Douma’s. “How pathet—”

A sharp zapping sound silenced Muzan, and a spear of pain darted through Douma’s hands, his arms, all the way to his chest. His heart emptied, his vision blurred, and his panic rose.

Terror sharpened his senses and made them bleed into each other. He was no longer sure of what was happening, only that he was in pain, he was still locked in the cage, humans were yelling, Muzan’s claws were reaching out toward his shoulder. Instinct took over and he lashed out in turn, his claws only half-drawn by the time they connected with the demon’s flesh.

Only it wasn’t a demon he clawed. No, he recognized that scent right away. It wasn’t demon, but human blood smeared across his hands.

The smell brought the world into sharp focus.

Muzan’s mistress was clutching her arm, her eyes wide with shock and fear as people gathered round and inspected the claw marks slicing her wrist.

“He bit her!” a voice called. “I’m calling the cops. He shouldn’t be in here. He’s dangerous.”

White hot terror flooded every part of Douma’s body.

No.

No no no no NO.

Not again. Not again.

He was going to be taken back to that awful place.

He was going to be taken away from you.

“Oh! Wait up!” Tanjiro called out as he chased you down the hallway near the bathrooms.

Your cheeks were still flushed scarlet despite holding a wet paper towel to them, your pulse thumping as you tried your best to fill your lungs. It was mortifying that you had been dry humped by your demon in front of the rest of the guests. But what was even worse is that you had loved it. The feeling of his body against yours, the heat, the frantic, animalistic need for each other. The sight of him with his leash and harness. It had felt so good. So wicked. So perfect.

None of it had been helped by the fact that you were cramping either.

“Tanjiro, hey,” you greeted the young man, trying to sound as though your heart wasn’t still vibrating with the excitement and shame of arousal. “Everything okay?”

“Of course!” he said brightly. “But there is a small problem with one of the demons and someone said he was yours.”

Your stomach dropped. Had something happened to Douma while you were cooling off in the bathroom? Was he hurt? “Oh god–”

“Don’t worry! It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Tanjiro said, holding out his hands as if to soothe you. “You came here with a dream demon, right?”

“Enmu?”

“That’s right! He’s uh… putting the guests to sleep and narrating their dreams. It’s kind of creeping people out.”

A burst of relieved laughter escaped you as you put your hand over your heart and felt your lungs fill once more. Douma was safe, and it was just a simple case of wrangling the stray demon you had illegally smuggled into a lapdancing bar. No biggie.

“Where is he?” you asked.

Tanjiro wasted no time leading you to the side room where Enmu was sprawled on his back across a large padded couch, surrounded by unconscious guests.

The dream demon had a wide smile on his face as he released an almost orgasmic sigh. “What a feast. So many beautiful dreams. So many secrets and desires. Ahh… I could stay here forever.”

You couldn’t help but smile. His power was mostly harmless, if a little creepy. “Enmu, come on… you have to let these people wake up.”

He rolled the back of his head across the plush of the couch to face you. “Well that’s no fun.”

“Neither is sleeping through an entire party. Wake them up.”

He hummed thoughtfully and rolled his eyes. “Just a little longer, please. It’s been so long since I was surrounded by so many dreams.”

“Enmu…”

“Oh, fine. Awaken.”

The guests began to stir and Enmu climbed to his feet, walking toward you with a wide smile. The demon’s pale blue eyes shot to Tanjiro, then back to you. “I’m enjoying this party immensely.”

“Good. Just stay close, okay? And later on maybe I’ll let you listen to my dreams. Deal?”

Enmu’s smile turned to a sinister smirk. “The dreams of someone in love? Ahh… how wonderful. Agreed.”

Your face heated. “I’m not in love.”

“If you insist.” Enmu giggled quietly. “Very well then, mistress. I’ll stick by your side.”

Tanjiro got to work helping the groggy guests back to their feet and fetching them glasses of water as you and Enmu headed back out to the main lounge of the club. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Enmu.”

The dream demon sighed longingly. “One of them was dreaming of beating his own father with a baseball bat. It was glorious. I wonder what you dream about… sharp fangs… golden hair and rainbow eyes?”

“Stop!” Your cheeks grew warm but you couldn’t help but laugh. In some strange way it was nice to know you were so obviously smitten. It was exciting, even if the feeling was forbidden. And as Enmu continued theorizing, it felt as if you finally had someone to confess it all to, even if you kept denying it. “Actually, no I’m not letting you listen to my dreams. You can have meat instead.”

“Ah… very well. You’d be surprised how many humans dream of their demons in that way. And vice versa of course. Such forbidden thoughts. Such deliciously taboo dreams.”

“They do?”

“Oh, yes. Wicked dreams are my favorites.”

You entered the lounge together. A crowd had gathered around the stage, some people stood on it, others stood at floor level. The club’s owner and the green-haired security guard were there, though you could only see the guard from behind, crouched on the floor and visibly struggling with someone.

“Has there been a fight?” you asked, but Enmu simply smiled. Something about the scene gave you a deeply uneasy feeling. You were already taking your first hurried steps, heart leaping into your throat as you spoke your fear aloud, “Where’s Douma?”

Kie Kamado called out your name, drawing your attention toward her. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her wounded wrist. “I tried to tell them it was an accident. I’m okay but someone called the police—”

“Douma!”

Gods, no no no you’d failed him. You’d left him alone and he was in danger.

You pushed through the crowd toward where the security guard was crouched, confirming your worst fears; Douma, pinned to the ground, his eye swollen and bruised, his cheeks streaked with tears. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to– the look on his face was one of pure terror and helplessness.

“Get off him!” you yelled.

“Get back!” the security guard bellowed back. “The cops are on their way.”

“He’s mine. He’s my pet, let me deal with him.” Your heart was pounding, your vision shaking with panic as you got to your knees, facing the security guard but positioning yourself above Douma. “Please don’t send him away.”

“He bit a woman!”

“It was an accident!” Kie called from behind you. “I keep telling you but no one will listen. I shocked my demon and Douma got caught in it. He lashed out because he was scared. It wasn’t even a bite!”

“No tolerance policy,” the guard said with a tone of finality. “He’s gone.”

Your heart and mind raced at a thousand miles per hour, panic consuming you along with the acknowledgement of the simple truth; you wouldn’t let them take him. They’d have to pry you apart. You didn’t even feel human anymore as you stared down the security guard, the urge to punch him right in his smug fucking face overwhelming you.

In that moment you felt as if you were the demon and Douma the helpless human. You were ready to go to war for him, blood boiling, jaw clenched, ready to defend him by any means.

“Gyutaro, get the hell off him,” the club’s owner snapped, shoving him on his wide shoulder. “God, you’re so stupid. Can’t you see everything’s fine? Just let him go back to his owner.”

“I’m stupid? You’re the one who let him in and he assaulted a customer. Ume, you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the box, are you?”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”

“An idiot, that’s who!”

As they started to bicker, the security guard stood, allowing Douma to finally sit back up. He flung himself into your arms, knocking the air from your lungs as he burrowed his face in your neck.

“Don’t let them take me from you. Please,” he begged, the helplessness in his voice making your heart ache.

“Never. Douma, they’d have to kill me first. I’m never letting you go.”

"Get him out of here," the security guard barked without taking his eyes off his sister. "You're both barred from ever coming back."

You found yourself so relieved you could cry.

Douma clung to you, the tension in his body melting a little more with every passing moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words flowed from your lips as easily as breath. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. The injury above his eyebrow was already healing. “You wanna go home?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” You kissed his forehead reassuringly. “Let’s go home.”

Douma’s heart was heavy. It was a sensation he was unaccustomed to, one which drowned out the throbbing pain above his eye where the security guard had punched him. Even the electric shock had paled in comparison to the ache in his chest. It hurt so much that even the feverish desire of his heat was all but gone.

And he wasn’t even sure what it was. His heart felt like lead.

You lay with him on the couch; you on your back, him on top of you, resting his head on your chest as you gently pet his hair. All he wanted was to be close to you, to listen to the steady thump of your heart and bask in the warmth and scent of your body. He’d begged you not to remove his harness, and you’d listened, of course you had. You seemed to understand how much it meant to him now, that he saw it as a comfort, a symbol of your bond, and not an oppression as you had initially feared.

“I’m so sorry, Douma,” you said again, the leash still looped around your wrist. “I wanted this night to be perfect for you and it all got completely fucked up.”

“It wasn’t your fault, dove,” he reassured you. “You did something for me that no one has ever done. None of my previous owners have ever refused to let me be taken. None of them. Just you.”

The evening hadn’t ended on the worst note. Kie Kamado had been very kind to him, and even forced Muzan to apologize for his behavior. And Enmu was back home in his train shed with a large lamb shank to gnaw on.

And yet…

“I’m so sorry I embarrassed you, mistress,” Douma said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have danced with you that way. I…” he drew a breath. It was better to be honest. “I believe I’ve entered my heat. It’s never happened before.”

“Oh…” Your breath and your heartbeat quickened, he could hear them in your chest. “Well… that’s a good thing. It means you’re healthy, right?”

“I suppose it does.” He chuckled. Of course that would be your reaction; seeing it as a measure of his health and wellbeing instead of a primal desire to mate with you. You sweet thing.

A heavy silence hung between you, broken only by the beating of your heart against his ear. “So,” you said at last. “Does that mean you want to find another demon? A mate?”

He could hear the trepidation in your voice, the nervous waver. He could sense your anxiety as you waited for his answer, but this time it wasn’t just a smell, it wasn’t just something he observed. No, this time he felt it.

His heart beat faster. His skin prickled with nervous heat.

His throat grew tight as he raised his head to gaze at you; his mistress, the only mate he wanted.

“No,” he said, that painful heaviness in his heart growing unbearable. “I’ll endure it.”

“Isn’t that painful?”

“It’s not as bad as they say,” he lied.

You looked back at him and nodded. “Okay, but if you change your mind—”

“I won’t.” He lowered his head once more to your chest. “I’m happy right now, just to be held by you. Tonight hurt.”

“I know,” you said softly, gently caressing his hair. "I'll hold you for as long as you like."

Later that night, when you could barely keep your eyes open, the pair of you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash up before bed. He watched you in the mirror, his heart soothed simply by the sight of you cleaning your funny little teeth, scrubbing the makeup off your pretty little face. You were fascinating and comforting, exciting and safe, and he loved you. So, so much.

When you were done cleaning up he took your hand in his and led you toward his room, “Please stay with me tonight, mistress. At least until I fall asleep.”

"Douma…"

"I don't want to be alone."

It was mostly true– he didn't– but if he was completely honest, it was because he didn't want to be without you. He simply didn’t want to be apart from you ever. You may not have physically been his mate, but in his heart you were already bound. And if that meant him spending the rest of his life hurting then so be it. Agony was a small price to pay for your company.

You paused at the threshold of his room, watching as he climbed onto the bed and moved aside some of his pillows to make space for you to join him. The leash stretched between you, still connecting your hand to his heart.

“Douma, are you sure?”

He simply held out his arms toward you, inviting you into his embrace. And when you hesitated a moment longer, he tugged on the leash.

Your resolve crumbled so quickly, and with a resigned smile you climbed onto the bed and flopped down beside him, one arm immediately coming to rest across his shoulder so you could resume your never ending task of petting his hair. Douma’s arm nestled in the valley of your waist, his fingers stroking slow spirals around your lower back.

Despite lying together on the couch all the time, somehow this was different. His heart squeezed at the sight of you lying with your head on his pillow. It felt more intimate, forbidden and wonderful.

“You’re so pretty,” he said.

Your shy little smile made his belly flutter. “So are you. But you knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “And I like being pretty for you. Your pretty pet.”

‘You’re far more than just that.”

Oh, how he adored you. You brought up your other hand to his mouth, making his lips curve as he playfully nibbled your fingers, feeling his heart lighten with your playful laughter. You were never afraid of his fangs or claws and it warmed his heart to know that you trusted him, despite having every reason not to. You trusted your bad pet, you had done since the moment you met him. And he loved you so completely in return.

He bit you again, this time on the heel of your palm, his fangs pressing to that tender flesh without breaking the skin. Of course he wouldn't ever hurt you, but he still kissed the bite better when he released you, his lips grazing over your skin with adoration.

Your breath snagged in your throat.

He knew the feeling. You had kissed his brow in the club, and that gentle, loving gesture had shone like a sunbeam through storm clouds. It made him happy to give you the same sweet affection, so he kissed your palm again, then your wrist, before he returned to biting, nibbling his way up your arm which always made you squirm so delightfully.

“Douma!” You squealed his name as he slung his thigh over your hips, playfully holding you down as his teeth grazed your shoulder, then your collar, before finally reaching your throat.

Laughter gave way to sighs, and smiles faded as he bit and kissed your neck, his tongue tracing the little indents his teeth left behind. “Oh little rabbit,” he whispered against your skin. “How I adore you.”

"If I'm a rabbit, what does that make you? A fox?"

He raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. "Your carrot. Chew me up."

Oh the snort of laughter which burst from you was beautiful. He could spend the rest of his life like that with you.

"You want me to bite you?" You laughed.

"Yes!" He did. Desperately so.

And then you raised your head and rolled over, burying your sweet little face against the tender skin of his neck, and biting down as he had with you.

"Ohh‐hahh~" He couldn't contain the broken whimper which emerged from him. Darts of pleasure shot through his body straight to his cock which was already beginning to tent his hakama pants. "My, little bunny, what sharp teeth you have."

"All the better to eat you with, my pet."

Gods… Was it happening? After weeks of wishing and needing, were you finally succumbing to desire? He was practically giddy with the idea, his heart pounding like a drum as you kissed the bite on his neck.

"Mistress?"

"Hm?"

"Am I good?" His heart fluttered as he waited for your response. He knew the answer, he just adored hearing it from you.

"Yes." Your teeth grazed his throat once more, making him throb with need. "You're so good."

"I'm a good boy for you?"

Your smirk tickled the skin of his neck. "You're my good boy."

“Oh…”

You raised your head at the sound of his pleasure, your eyes scrutinizing his face, your worry returning to your face. And then he smelled it; a flood of desire coursing through you. You were turned on, and of course you were overthinking it.

“Don’t stop,” he begged. “Please. Please, mistress.”

Drawing in a slow breath your face was a picture of concern. “Douma… I don’t want to take advantage of you. I swore to you I would never be like those other owners.”

“You’re not, dove. You never have been.” Gods, his heart beat only for you, sweet anxious thing. But he needed to reassure you. This is what he wanted. You. This. Always. "You have always given me agency and… and choices. And with my agency, I'm choosing to do this."

It was hardly an effort at all to maneuver you on top of him, your thighs straddling his hips as the fabric of your dress rode up deliciously. He put the loop of his leash in your hand and lay back to admire you; a queen on her throne.

Exactly where you were meant to be.

“Shall I beg, mistress?” he said, gazing up at you. “Do you want me to beg you to own me completely?”

It was wrong. So wrong. And yet… your resolve was slipping. The hard press of his cock against your backside was unmistakable. As was your urge to ride it.

“You know, you never asked me what Enmu and I discussed the first time we talked.”

He was right. You hadn’t even thought to ask what the two demons had discussed as they sat atop the old abandoned train.

Every breath drawn took a monumental effort as he gazed up at you, so beautiful it made your body ache. “Of course. I didn’t want to intrude.”

Douma’s smile radiated adoration as he curled the leash around his fingers. “We discussed you and the life of a pet. Enmu told me ways I could escape you, that I could possibly pass as human given that I have no horns or facial markings. Just a hat to cover my hair would suffice. And I could escape.”

A sickly feeling gathered in your stomach.

“He was right. But I didn’t want to. I never have. I want to be with you. Always. Every day. For all my days. I want to be with you and… I want you to be my mate.”

You swallowed hard. “Humans and demons can’t mate.”

“So they say,” he said, his eyes taking on a mischievous and hopeful glint. “We could prove them wrong?”

Your mind whirred. “We could never have babies, our bodies aren’t compatible like that.”

“And does that feel like something you’d be deprived of?”

You thought about it for a moment and shook your head. “No.”

He took your hand in his, pulling you forward ever so slightly to place it on the supple mound of his chest. Your face was just inches from his as his rainbow-hued eyes stared at you with hope and desire. The warmth of his breath fanning over your lips, the comforting scent of him, the hard press of his firm body between your thighs.

"Make me yours," he whispered. "Please."

"Douma, I don't think–"

"Hush hush, mistress. Don't think, feel." He raised his head an inch, so all that remained between your lips were shivering breaths. When you still made no move to close the gap, Douma pressed on, nudging his nose against yours, a barely audible “please” escaping him.

Your body was alight with desire, the tension between you the most delicious torture you had ever known. And when you caved, when your lips finally ghosted over his like gossamer floating on a breeze, he let out the softest, most helpless whimper that made your toes curl.

Douma’s lips were warm and plush, and so very eager to please you. His kisses were an act of worship, pulling back after each one to check your expression, to ensure he was doing well for you. And he was. Every kiss deepened your desire and sent tingles straight to your core.

Winding the leash around your hand, you let your desire grow, kisses deepening, your tongue teasing his and exploring the sharp points of his fangs as he moaned beneath you. Your hands tugged at the tight fabric of his shirt, pulling it out from beneath his waistband to expose his abdomen. The heat radiating from his body was dizzying, the sensation of his muscles twitching beneath you addictive.

The confines of your party dress became unbearable. You wanted to feel the warmth of his body against yours. You broke away from the kiss to sit upright, much to Douma’s distress.

“Mistress please,” he begged, “I don’t want it to end.”

“Will you help me with my zipper?” you asked.

The demon’s face was a picture of relief as he sat upright with you, reaching sound your back to carefully slide down the zipper. When you tugged the dress up over your head and removed your bra, he released a shaking breath, his smile growing.

“What a beautiful mistress I have,” he said reverently. “May I take my clothes off too?”

“Yes but… leave the harness.”

He did exactly as you wished, unclipping the harness first to allow him to remove his shirt, then putting the leather straps back in place.

And gods, the sight of him then; so full and soft, his nipples already puckered and flushed a rosy shade from a combination of his heat and your kisses. His chest had always enticed you, but now you were given free rein to satiate your hunger and desire. And it filled you with pride to know that it was your love and care that had helped make him so strong and beautiful.

He lifted his hips to slide off his hakama pants, taking his underwear off with them and freeing his cock. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, given that he was tall and well-built everywhere else, but the size of it certainly gave you pause. It curved up toward his belly, a darker shade than the rest of him, so engorged with desire he was already leaking clear beads of pre-cum.

He was beautiful. And he was yours.

“Lie back,” you told him. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable please tell me.”

“I will. But I won’t need to. I’m yours, mistress.”

“Yes, you are, aren’t you,” you said, straddling his hips once more and taking hold of his leash. “My beautiful pet. My good boy…”

He released a longing sigh at those words. All he wanted was to be adored by you, to be praised.

“Put your hands behind your head for me,” you instructed.

He did as you asked, his strong biceps framing his pretty face so perfectly as you leaned forward and licked the swollen bud of his nipple, earning you a moan from him. And gods, the way the leather harness squeezed the plush muscle and fat of his chest. Douma was exquisite, beautiful beyond measure, and so responsive to your touch.

“Does that feel good?” you asked.

“Yes,” he sucked in a heavy, stuttering breath. “I think… my heat is making them extra sensitive.”

Your lips curled. “Is that so?”

He groaned loudly as you began to lap at his nipples, teasing them with the tip of your tongue and watching him squirm, his breaths turning to pants as his hips thrust involuntarily beneath you. There wasn’t an inch of him you didn’t want to pleasure, to adore.

And there wasn’t an inch of you he didn’t worship; you could see that in his eyes, and from the way he softly whined “Ohh mistress, my mistress, thank you, thank you,” as you sucked and squeezed his tits.

Your inhibitions forgotten, you sucked a dark hickey beneath his left nipple, pussy throbbing as he gasped squirmed beneath you.

“Bite…” he begged. “Bite me. Please.”

Your panties were soaked as you fulfilled his wishes, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh, relishing his wanton moans of pleasure and his pleas for more.

“Harder. Harder. Mark me. Make me yours.”

So you bit him, you marked him. Licking, sucking, biting, teasing. His chest was flushed and covered in hickies and the indents of your teeth, his cock leaking rivers of precum as his gasps broke with hiccups of delirious laughter.

His nipples were puffy and glistening with your saliva, his areola puckered and swollen from your ministrations.

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “Oh I need… Gods I need… to be… inside.”

“You want me to fuck you?” you asked, soothing his bites with gentle feathery kisses.

“Desperately.”

You needed him too. You ached for him, needing nothing more than to ride his cock, to reward him for being your good pet.

Standing from the bed, you eased down your panties, your heart dropping at the sight of blood. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hm?” Douma lifted his head, his pupils dilating at the sight, just as they had the first time he smelled fresh, bloody liver. “Oh… mistress…”

“I’m sorry,” you grumbled, pulling up your underwear. “I knew it was due, but talk about bad timing.”

Elegant fingers and sharp lavender talons wrapped around your wrist, halting your movement. “Mistress…” He laughed softly. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You stared at him and he stared back.

“You want…?”

“I want,” he said. “Very much.”

He sat up and climbed off the bed, dropping to his knees before you and easing down your underwear. Gods, his eyes were flooded with hunger, his pupils blown out and abyssal black as he leaned closer, inhaling your scent; arousal and blood.

Some small part of you protested, but the thought that what you were about to do was dirty and forbidden was quickly drowned out by the roar of your arousal. He wanted it, and you wanted it too.

“Mistress, you are divine. Sacred. Allow me to worship you as you were born to be worshiped.”

You placed your hand on the red mark on his crown, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your hips toward him. “Do it.”

A shiver ran through your body at the tickle of his tongue lapping at your inner thighs. He groaned contentedly, the same way he did when you fed him, only this time the sound was even more primal. Your sweet, adoring demon feasted on you, that deep, rumbling purr sounding in his chest as he lapped at your essence. And he looked so pretty, feeding from you; his face a picture of serenity, eyes closed in bliss.

The slippery heat of his tongue sliding through your pussy lips almost made your legs buckle. You leaned forward, bracing your arms and one knee on the edge of the bed so he had to bend backward, his hands coming up to grip your hips, claws pricking your flesh as he devoured your cunt.

His hungry tongue licked your clit, driving you higher and higher toward ecstasy as you ground your pussy against his mouth, spurred on by his moans. You were no longer human and he a demon, you were both simply animals chasing pleasure, primal desire overtaking inhibition and drowning out reason. All that mattered was he was yours and you were his.

The obscene slick, wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy filled the room, accompanied by your broken cries as you threw your head back in bliss, arms trembling as he sucked your clit, the tip of his tongue lapping voraciously until you fell apart, your orgasm shaking you to your core as your hips involuntarily pistoned against his face, riding him through your climax.

“Mmmhh…” Douma’s muffled cry vibrated against you as his body trembled in response to yours, his claws drawing pinpricks of blood on your hips.

And when you finally came down to earth, you drew back to look at him, any traces of worry dissipating at the sight of his blissful expression, lips glossy with your slick essence and reddened by your blood.

“Thank you, mistress,” he whispered, his tongue tracing the plump cushion of his lips. “That was perfect.”

His cock was still hard but glazed with cum. It dribbled down his length and his muscular abdomen in almost iridescent rivers.

“You came?” you asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

He nodded and laughed, his face a picture of bliss. “This is the best night of my life.”

You dropped down to straddle him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tight. “I love you,” you whispered, overcome with affection for him. His still-hard cock twitched against your pussy.

“Do you want more?” you asked.

“I never want to stop. I want this forever.”

“So do I,” you said. And you meant it.

It took so little for him to sink inside you, your tight, wet heat sending shivers through his spine as you claimed him. Your bodies fit together so perfectly, no space even for air to flow between you. Just skin-to-skin, heart-to-heart, your lips on his, your hand around his leash.

Gods, you were beautiful; his mistress, his owner, his mate.

“You marked me… so beautifully,” he gasped as you started to ride his cock, your eyes squeezing shut as you grew accustomed to his size.

He would bear those marks proudly for the rest of his life. His soul was bound to you, and he would live every day at your side, not in your shadow, but in your glow.

How he loved you. His mistress who had always cared so deeply for him, who treated him as a man when the world insisted he was a monster, who would stand and fight to protect him. He was yours, your pet, your lover, your Douma. Yours forever.

And gods, you had the most divine little pussy he had ever felt.

So hot and wet, made even more so by your blood and his saliva. All his other owners had made him fuck them, wanting it hard and fast, begging him to use his strength and size to dominate them. But not you. No, you claimed him so gently he simply slipped into submission, safe and comforted by your dominion.

You would protect him and care for him forever, he knew that with certainty.

“My mate,” he whimpered, burying his face in the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

Your pussy squeezed his cock at the sound of that and it filled him with joy to know that it pleased you. The feeling was so wonderful it brought tears to his eyes.

He was no longer an empty void unable to feel. No, you had coaxed everything out of him, you had filled him up. And he was safe, so safe to exude it all.

“I love you,” he whispered as you rocked atop him, milking his cock of his seed. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, bowing your head to bite his neck and tugging on the straps of his harness, sending him over the edge once more.

His cum filled you and your walls pulsed to the same rhythm, both of you reaching your peaks in sync, your bodies and souls so deeply connected it brought him to tears and laughter.

And of course you worried. He didn’t mean to scare you but it did. You held his face so gently between your hands and looked at him with concern. “Douma? What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing, little dove,” he sighed, gently tugging the leash between you. “Not a thing. In fact, for the first time in my life, I can confidently say that I feel happy. I feel… so very full.”

A little later, when his limbs had stopped trembling and he could lift you onto the bed to lay beside him, he watched you fall asleep, completely fucked out and satisfied. He curled up against you, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him unconsciously.

His lovely little mate. His life. His heart. His soul.

Epilogue- Six Months Later.

It was a pretty night, the park lit with fairy lights and filled with the sounds of chattering demons and their owners. You coiled Douma’s leash around your hand, but he wasn’t on the other end of it.

His confidence had grown a little, and though behind closed doors you were very much joined at the hip– among other body parts– he’d begun socializing with other demons more often. And he felt so much; after so long believing himself to be an empty shell, he was practically overflowing.

“He’s doing very well,” Kie Kamado said as the pair of you watched Douma and Muzan’s stilted interactions. “Unless you know, you would never have thought he came from a kill shelter. He’s a picture of health and happiness.”

“Thank you,” you said, your heart filled with pride.

No one knew you were his mate. No one could know. Even as you stood there, all polite smiles and small talk, your pussy was filled with his seed, and his body was littered with your marks. The secrecy of it all thrilled both of you. In fact, you had no doubts that the moment you stepped through the door he would want to engage in the biting game until biting turned to kissing and then to fucking. It always did.

“Oh no,” Kie sighed, pulling you from your thoughts.

Immediately your eyes were drawn to Douma, who was laughing as Muzan snarled at him. “Well… they lasted eight minutes,” you sighed, already making your way toward the arguing demons.

“Definitely an improvement,” Kie said, stepping in to distract Muzan.

Wrapping your arms around Douma’s waist, you pulled him back with you. “Come on, no fighting today.”

He laughed as you dragged him away. “Ah-ha! Mistress, there you are. You came to my rescue?”

“Always.” You chuckled, releasing him from your hold.

He smiled and clipped your leash onto his harness. He always did whenever something had rattled him, even just a little. You were such a comfort to him.

Together, you made your way behind a little utility shed, your lips crashing together the moment you found seclusion, your hunger for each other never ending.

“Take me home?” he whispered. “I need you.”

“I need you too. But we have to stay just a little longer. We only got here ten minutes ago.”

He pouted, “I suppose. But all of these demons are so cold to me. Especially Muzan. And the little butterfly demon.”

You reached up and brushed his golden hair out of his eyes. “Just a little longer, love. I’ll buy you boba on our way home.”

With a heavy sigh he relented. “Okay. But I get to feast on you when we get back.”

Your cheeks grew warm. He always knew when you were menstruating, and he was always insatiable during those days. “Deal.”

“Deal,” he grinned, pouncing on you and burying his face against your neck. “My little jelly donut.”

“You did not!” You squealed in playful horror, trying to keep it down as he nibbled your neck. “Douma! That’s terrible.”

He laughed, squeezing you tight. “Fine, fine. My mistress. My beloved. My mate.”

“Better.”

“And what am I to you? Say it,” he said, needy as ever.

“My good boy,” you whispered, making goosebumps prickle along his arms. “My good pet.”

He ran kisses along the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your flesh and making you shiver. And despite your best intentions, it would be a while before you came out from behind the utility shed and rejoined the meeting. It always was.

A/N: Thank you so so so so much for reading Bad Pet! I loved writing it and I hope you had fun reading it! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging. It helps us writers share our stories!

Taglist: @anxious-chick @lifesucksweswallow @ghostlyworld @223princess

#kimestu no yaiba #douma x y/n #douma x reader #demon slayer douma #sub!douma #dom!reader #doma x reader #kny doma #soft dom reader #dom reader #n.sfw #n/sfw #demon slayer smut #douma smut #kny douma #demon slayer #douma #pet demon #pet demon au

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squidthesquidd · 6 months

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so. i made an au…. its called the household pets au!

basically, kagaya ubuyashiki and muzan kibutsuji are neighbors, and have some really fucked up pets. muzans pets keep terrorizing the neighborhood so kagayas pets go and chase them off!

These are some of kagayas fucked up pets!! the hashira <3

#muichiro tokito #tengen uzui #rengoku kyojuro #sanemi shinazugawa #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanroji #giyuu tomioka #shinobu kocho #gyomei himejima #household pet au #anthro #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #hashira

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kakushino · 7 months

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My Pet Demon collaboration

A collaboration of stories set under the same headcanons in an AU with domesticated demons

Rules:

you can write for any character from Kimetsu no Yaiba universe

SFW and NSFW are both allowed

you have to stick to the headcanons for the AU

you have to tag me and/or add link to the masterlist (this post) of My Pet Demon collaboration

Headcanons for this universe

Masterlist

Akaza

(unnamed work) - @mysicklove

Aizetsu

Smile for Me - @glitchtricks94

Douma

Bad Pet Part 1 | Part 2 - Fem!Reader | @flametrashira

Enmu

(unnamed work) - @insanityofbones

Giyuu

Be my owner - AFAB!Reader | @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

Gyokko

Kintsugi - @glitchtricks94

Gyomei

(unnamed work) - @fictionalwhor3

Gyutaro

Iris - @glitchtricks94

(unnamed work) - @redr0sewrites

Karaku

(unnamed work) - @mmm-fuji

Obanai

(unnamed work) - @benkeibear

Sanemi

Where the wind blows - @sulli1361

Sekido

(unnamed work) - @black-is-iconic

Shinjuro

(unnamed work) - Demon! AFAB!Reader | @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

Tanjiro

(unnamed work) - @itsinthemist

Urogi

(unnamed work) - @linpunny

If you would like to join the universe, please DM me / shoot me an ask ( @kakushino ) first

divider made by the amazing @benkeibear

#my pet demon au #kimestu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #giyuu x reader #douma x reader #kakushino

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extra-v1rgin · 5 months

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This fic is,,, weird. But I enjoyed writing it. I still feel slightly embarrassed posting it however lol

Root idea inspired by phantasmiafxndom

Cw for mentions of child abuse *cough cough* Shinjuro

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Demons, in their current form, were not just disgusting to Kyojuro but also pathetic in a way that made his heart burn with anger. Decades ago it had been perfectly fine to kill them. The creatures were a scar upon humanity and extermination was agreed upon by nearly everyone.

Now people treated them like a nuisance at worst, some even tended to coddle them. Protests grew daily, demanding the demons be treated more humanely. Humanely? For creatures that used to eat humans, still did in some cases. It was a fate kinder than they deserved.

Despite Kyojuro’s distaste most people didn’t share his feelings on the matter. Perhaps the most upsetting was the fact that Senjuro had complete adoration for demons. He tried his best to tolerate his brothers ideas, but couldn’t often hide his disturbance.

It only got worse when a few of Senjuro’s schoolmates got demons of their own. They had become a new fad, and the ultimate status symbol. Why have a dog or cat when instead you could find a demon who you could dress up with hair to brush.

Even his own brother cooed over the creatures. One or two of his classmates (alongside a few of Kyojuro’s own students) sported such popular pets and enjoyed showing them off. During lunch students would gather around pictures to oo and ah over whatever unique features the particular example had.

And while Rengoku worked a humble job as a teacher, their father still had plenty of money to spare even after retirement, something his younger brother was well aware of. It was no surprise when Senjuro too started to beg for a pet. The man was less secretive of his distaste inside his own home. He wasn’t harsh or cruel with the boy, simply firm. Senjuro had asked for pets before. This obsession would fade much like rest.

—-

Six months later Kyojuro gave in. Senjuro had earned some sort of reward. The elder brother didn’t like to leave the home often, not for elongated periods of time. Shinjuro mostly kept to himself now but it wasn’t impossible for their father to lash out. These incidents were few and far between. The only connection between them was that they occurred when Kyojuro wasn’t in the home.

But he had a job to do. Volunteering for an overnight field trip had perhaps been a mistake on his own part. In the past Senjuro had been able to find appropriate accommodations for the night or two his brother was gone. This time it was simply a combination of all the wrong things coming together.

He shouldn’t have believed his younger brother’s insistences that everything would be ok. Uzui or Sanemi would loathe watching the children but he could’ve forced one of the other men to take his place. That didn’t change the fact that he was the one who left on the trip. Everything on his end went rather smoothly. The children were rowdy, but didn’t cause any major problems. After constantly checking in and several reassurances from Senjuro he pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

They rushed forward again when Kyojuro arrived home. Even upon his return his brother greeted him with a smile and warm hug. It would’ve been a nice welcome under most circumstances. Senjuro wore a high collar, creeping above his neck. It wasn’t entirely inappropriate for the weather but wasn’t part of his typical ensemble.

Rengoku went to pull at the turtleneck. Though the boy nervously tried to avoid the attempts it wasn’t as if he could run away.

“It’s fine aniue,” he mumbled. Kyojuro saw a purple spot forming. It wasn’t too large, not the largest Senjuro or himself had ever recieved, but still there nonetheless. Softly he brushed the area with his thumb. His younger brother let out a little puff of air despite his attempts to hold in any reaction.

Finally allowed to pull away he backs up. Already his eyes are clouding with tears. Kyojuro waits for a moment, gently reaching his hand out so it barely hovers above the boy’s shoulder. When Senjuro leans into the touch he’s quickly smothered in an overbearing hug. He doesn’t quite sob, but tears soak into the elder brother’s shirt.

Even though Senjuro is mature (which sometimes makes Rengoku guilty in a way, because he shouldn’t have to be so mature) he’s still fourteen. Beyond that he’ll always be the younger of the two. Kyojuro had gotten used to sharing a bed and taking care of a sick brother and buying birthday gifts the moment their mother died, when Senjuro had barely started school. It feels natural to pick him up and settle on one of the softer couches. He’s small enough to still be able to curl up in Rengoku’s lap.

The two are happy to sit there for awhile. Senjuro was never much of a talker so the man doesn’t push him for now. Tears roll down his cheeks, which Rengoku swears still carry a bit of baby fat.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left. I’ll be more careful next time. You didn’t-“

“It’s not your fault aniue. F-father just- he got mad because I dropped a plate and it’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” More water wells up in the corner of his eyes. After sucking in a shuddering breath he tries again. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

“Ok.” Kyojuro’s eyes soften. “You did a good job though.” He shouldn’t have had to, but Senjuro’s been forced to grow quickly. “We’ll do something for you though. Whaddya want? We can get dessert or go to that fancy ramen place or whatever else.”

Senjuro sniffles again. “You’ll be mad at me.”

“Of course I won’t, you can choose anything.”

“Ok.”

—-

A demon was not was Kyojuro had in mind. He had lightly protested at first but after Senjuro relented with a horribly sad look the man ended up being the one to insist. He bit back the opposing words on his tongue and tried to be supportive.

It was obvious the boy had been thinking about this for quite some time. He already had a list of several local rescues and even pulled an older futon into one of the many spare rooms they had.

Rengoku had trouble keeping a solid smile on his face, but even when it slipped his brother didn’t notice.

So they (well mostly Senjuro, who finally insists on going one day after school) arrive at a vaguely creepy facility, white walls with rows of cages on either side. The cashier is a young woman who drags her voice out too much, weirdly high in an attempt to appear more friendly. Her lax appearance was strange with the rest of the sterile environment.

Senjuro was free to pick one of his own out. Kyojuro found all of them equally repulsive, and had no preference for which one ended up in their home. The only thing he wanted was for his brother to change his mind and let them leave empty handed. He felt bad for thinking such bitter thoughts considering what had propelled their visit. Everytime he tried to improve his attitude Rengoku would catch sight of meat sitting in feeding bowls or little signs declaring the temperament of a specific pet.

Senjuro was firm in his choices however and they ended up with something vaguely human, though that wasn’t very remarkable. It (They, Senjuro kept on insisting, like it was an actual being) had greyish skin and sunken eyes. With a few random spikes and other inhuman qualities it was pretty typical in terms of demons. It wasn’t the most repulsive one there, plenty had more appalling traits like multiple eyes or huge fists perfect for clawing people.

The chatty saleswoman cooed as she opened up the cage and beckoned you forward. “Good choice! This one’s quiet, but the most well-behaved cutie you’ve ever seen.” As you drag yourself out of the cage and rise to your full height Rengoku grimaces. You don’t look particularly threatening, smaller than him with blank eyes and greasy hair. ‘Cute’ is not the word that comes to mind.

Hesitantly taking the new leash clipped to your collar Senjuro tugs you forward. You move along with the motions, following quick enough that the lead never draws taut. One of your feet drags slightly each time you take a step.

“Hi.” The boy is so quiet as he whispers it. He seems a little shy, reverent maybe? Holding eye contact for only a moment or two he looks away and back towards his brother. “I want this one aniue.” The shyness holds as he

at Kyojuro.

The man bites his tongue for a minute and tries to think of an appropriate response. “And you’re sure?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice.

It’s detected anyways. Senjuro’s brow furrows slightly. His brother is never truly angry, but annoyed seems like a just reaction. “Yes! I promise.” The words rush out quickly in a way that leaves no room for argument.

“Awesome! And just so you know each adoption comes with some basic care items, a bit of meat, feeding bowls, um I think there’s a booklet included.” The saleswoman bounces around the counter and roots in the drawers underneath. “Is this your first one? Honestly I thought about adopting in the past but after spending all my time here I’ve gotten my fill of demons.”

Senjuro nods along politely to each sentence. Rengoku merely stares out the window and waits until she asks for a card. When she finally finishes her spiel he slaps the card down. Demons can be low-maintenance (in actuality that means negligent owners who can’t quite get in trouble with how resilient demons are) but when properly taken care of they can be rather expensive. The cost of meat alone, synthetic human or the animal kind, can scare many away. Money here isn’t the problem.

Kyojuro has to carry all the accessories back to the car. His brother opted to chose about a dozen different types of collars and bowls and whatever else in his excitement. Trailing behind slightly he still holds your leash in hand. Every few steps he’ll nervously look back as if to make sure you’re still following. You don’t react to any of these glances, don’t react to anything at all other than stopping when he does and moving forward when prompted.

Once you’re brought to the car Kyojuro directs you towards the back, where several plastic covers have been put over the seats. Senjuro has to lean over to buckle you, jolting each time his skin brushes against yours. Pulling away he hovers for a moment before his brother directs him towards the front seat.

—-

Their house is nice. You’re led to a mostly bare room which is dubbed as yours. The older Rengoku dumps the toys in the corner and is quick to leave afterwards. You can still smell him sharply though, lingering just beyond the doorway.

The younger one parades you around the room to show off the space. Currently there is a futon in the corner with a shelf pressed against the opposite wall. Senjuro promises to get you more to furnish the space but it makes no difference to you.

“I’ll see if there’s a salon or something like that. They can bathe you and help with your nails.”

They’re claws, pointed and sharp but also splintering from lack of care. With no other way to respond you give a dull nod.

“I didn’t really think about clothes, but I do have an oversized shirt for you. It’s more like a dress really.” While explaining he plucks the piece from the bottom of your new belongings. “Aniue might have some old clothes that fit you, just until I go shopping.”

At that your mouth drops into a sharper frown. His brother smells like anger and hatred and something too harsh for your nose. It’s not as if you’re not used to being disliked. Demons generally don’t get along with one another and being put in a shelter usually meant whatever previous owner you had wasn’t great. His distaste though was sharp on your tongue as the smell wafted through the air. It wasn’t like casual neglect or dehumanization— there wasn’t even subtle joy taken in the sight of your current state, he didn’t want you there at all.

Put off by the thought of the man you turn away and crawl underneath your futon. It’s warm against your chilled skin. Peeking your head out from the thick sheets you watch as he spreads the rest of the accessories around the space. The whole time he talks softly, not to you specifically, but fills the space with sound. He’s quiet and doesn’t say things pointlessly which keeps your annoyance from rising.

By the time he finishes you’re already half asleep. You’ve spent the last few months sitting in a cage most of the day, even just moving from one home to another has worn you out. Nerves alone keep your eyes open, at least while he’s in the room. The moment he leaves however your willpower thins.

—-

Days pass slowly. Senjuro feed’s you before he heads to school, at which point you’re mostly left alone. Kyojuro occasionally passes the room, but never pauses. A few times when it’s absolutely silent you’ll poke your head out of your room. You don’t ever end up passing the threshold of it though. Nobody’s invited you outside of the space and you don’t fancy getting punished for such a small journey.

Mostly you nap or pace around your room. There’s not much in terms of entertainment but it’s not a horrible existence. Senjuro is only gone for a few hours. When he gets home the boy will do homework in your room. It becomes so much of a habit that an extra desk gets shoved into the space. While he works you rest at his feet or watch him through your blankets.

Your routine rarely shifts, which is nice in its own way. Change is more often bad than good, but the humans seem to have their own ideas about what you need.

This afternoon when Senjuro enters his brother follows. When you sense Rengoku approaching however you try to scramble backwards. Senjuro’s arms stick out in front of him as he tries to calm you. You’re not very happy but you soften slightly anyways.

Now that you’re paying attention his words make real sense. “I want you and aniue to get along. He’s not mean so you can’t be either.” His brother stands in the doorway, looking threatening still.

“Please aniue, you have to be nice.” Senjuro looks up at the man. “Can’t you just pet them once? I don’t like it when you ignore each other.”

Rengoku approaches you carefully. In an attempt to please his brother the man wasn’t quite as brash as usual. But his feelings were still clear on his face, and the smell of his anger flows through the air. You’re tempted to back up even more, hiding flat beneath the chair.

In turn his expression only grows more displeased.

After a few minutes of him standing angrily in the middle of the room Senjuro observes the threatening aura easily and was quick to intervene. “Aniue! You have to be more gentle.” He runs to your side. Though the boy wasn’t particularly strong you allowed him to pull you into his lap. His soft hands run over your hair in soothing motions. “See, you have to be nice if you want them to trust you.” While he continued to cradle you an eye opened to peek at the elder brother. He looked even more upset than before, which brought a sly smile to your face.

With your sharp nose you could smell how hard Kyojuro had bit his tongue. The faintest smell of blood drifted in the air while saliva pooled in your mouth. Turning your smug face away you attempted to burrow further into the carpet and soft fabric. You roll around in the gentle feeling of his hands and the sweet smell of his clothes. He must’ve been cooking earlier, something sweet like sugar or baking mix is smeared over the front of his clothes.

Though you’ve hidden your face Kyojuro’s presence is still clear. When he settles beside you all your muscles pull tight. His hands graze over you twice while you lie as still as possible.

“Alright, is that good?” The man is already standing up.

Senjuro doesn’t seem satisfied at all, with your performance alongside his brother’s, but nods anyways. It seems the mood has gone sour, the way he leaves soon after. He tries not to make it feel like a punishment but a bit of guilt gnaws at your bones.

—-

The next day Senjuro is back to his usual routine although the air still feels a bit too quiet. Worry keeps you alert to his movements. A few times he opens his mouth without speaking. On the third or fourth try he finally manages to get a few words out.

“I’m having aniue take you to get all washed up and everything tomorrow. You have to be good otherwise he won’t want to do this for me again.” His sternness is in full force, and surprisingly authentic. Blinking up at him you give a curt nod, waiting for the petting to resume.

It does soon enough and you’re happy to settle back down.

—-

The spa- salon or whatever they call themselves is surprisingly pleasant. You’re shy at first. There’s lots of people there, other demons too. Some are carefully restrained, muzzles and harnesses and even one fashioned in a straight jacket.

You wish Senjuro had taken you. The boy would’ve coaxed you inside gently and explained everything along the way. Rengoku drags you towards the receptionist and clips your collar to one of the tethers there. As soon as you’re checked in and given a pickup time he leaves you there. You’re not shaking— that would be cowardly —but there’s a nerve running through your body.

The woman who takes you is nice. She has pretty pink hair with a friendly face, but ultimately is unfamiliar in a way that makes you resistant. When you don’t move with her she trues to guide you with a hand. It’s so warm again your skin. Senjuro’s touches are always light and the woman isn’t rough but it’s rougher than he is.

The hiss isn’t purposeful, not even threatening. It works to describe your discomfort. She tries soothing voices to guide you towards one of the chairs, but you stay rooted to the spot.

“Five steps ok? Why don’t you move with me and we can sit down.” When she nudges your legs you finally take one step. The woman guides you slowly until you settle down on one of the recliners. You’re still stiff, but in a position where they can start to take care of you.

Lots of different people do lots of different things. A man trims your talons and applies a thick shiny coat over them. He offers color but you staunchly shake your head.

Another person trims your hair. She carefully moves it away from your face and takes off a minimal amount. You can’t really see much of a difference, too distracted by all the little ends that have scattered across your face. The woman dusts them off with a fluffy brush that makes you sneeze. Everyone nearby coos after and you feel like more of a lapdog than a demon.

Someone else leads you over to a private bathroom, where you’re promptly scrubbed down. They use lots of bubbles and scented oils that edge on being too much for your senses. The after-effect is nice though, a calm lavender scent that’s much more pleasant than dirt and raw meat (even if the latter was tastier). You’re thrown into an oversized sweatshirt with matching pants, soft fleece lining the inside.

It all goes rather quickly. There’s dozens of new scents and people that cloud your brain. It’s hard to absorb the reality of everything until you’re allowed to actually rest. A side room lets you find a quiet place to curl up and rest.

Even though you’ve done just the barest amount of stumbling around there’s a weight to your bones that drags you down. You can’t remember if you were always like this or if it’s a side effect of being caged for so long. Either way you feel like a poor imitation of what a demon should be. A poodle compared to a wolf.

Part of you doesn’t really care. It’s not like you’ll ever be expected to kill or even hunt. This is the result from years of domestication.

You leave all the wondering for another day. Your mind is just a tired as your body and it’s no surprise when your eyes slip closed.

—-

Kyojuro drags you back into the car after a harsh awakening. You’re still half asleep but stumble out once he has a hand on your leash.

Slumping over in the back seat you drift back in and out of sleep. Everytime the man hits the breaks you jerk forward and wake back up.

But by the time you get home you’ve been knocked out fully. Your head dips downwards only to lose ok up an indeterminate amount of time later.

For a few minutes you wait awkwardly in the car. It’s hard to tell how much time has passed, but in reality it probably hasn’t been too long. Senjuro would’ve come out to wake you if he was home.

You decide nobody else would be inclined to fetch you. Crawling out of the backseat you dart towards the door leading inside.

Unsure of where exactly your room is you’re forced to rely on scent. You’ve never been outside of your room in length, and can’t recall the layout of most of the home.

Currently your strategy is to point your head in one direction and sniff. It seems to be doing a relatively good job of leading you in the right direction, or at least the smell isn’t getting any weaker.

Though much of the house is rather boring, plain walls with nice furniture that doesn’t really tell you anything, you do take note of whatever is a little interesting. There’s fresh flowers in one of the vases along the hallway. They must’ve been cut just a day or two ago. As you pass the kitchen you notice four seats at the dinner table, with room for more if needed. You haven’t heard any guests in the weeks you’ve been here, so it’s an odd sight.

Kyojuro seems to be absent at the moment, making your movements much more relaxed. You don’t drag your feet or wander aimlessly but you’re happy to poke your head in certain places were it doesn’t belong.

One room in particular captures your attention. Most of the home smells the same, with the brother’s scents flowing and ebbing depending on the space. In a darker hallway however there’s the sharp scent of alcohol. Underneath it you can sense another human within, a damp smell like overripe fruit. At first it makes you pause (the only sound is heavy breathing inside the room) and then scurry away from it.

You find your room soon after, happy to dive into your sheets. Pulling off the oversized clothes you’re happier to take in more familiar fragrances.

—-

When Senjuro gets home he showers you with compliments. Fingers sweep through your soft locks.

However he seems determined at ruining your peace. “Wasn’t Aniue great for taking you?” He tries to hide his pointed tone.

You give a non-committal shrug.

The boy huffs but doesn’t leave you like he did last time.

“They were booked too far ahead on Saturdays but next time I’ll plan for that so we can go together.”

Letting out a pleased trill you flop onto the ground.

The boy moves backwards. “Let’s get some food yea?” He waits for you to follow.

Never having been invited out of your room (Kyojuro taking you out earlier was less of an invite and more of a demand) you move hesitantly. Within the home there’s no leash attached to your collar. It’s nice most of the time but you could use it as proper direction for where he wants you to go. Every few steps you end up stopping because you’re so hesitant. You’re just grateful that Senjuro doesn’t mind how slow you make the journey.

The open air of the kitchen makes you nervous. There’s so many places to look that it makes you dizzy.

Senjuro opens the refrigerator. At the bottom there’s stacks of meat, all different kinds. Technically it makes sense. It’s not as if someone is purchasing your food everyday. The steaks and patties you get eat night have to appear from somewhere.

With it all in front of you however saliva fills your mouth.

“You can pick out your dinner this time. I thought that could be fun!” He pulls your arm towards the icy cooler.

Moving slowly you just point to the top of the pile. You’d eat the whole thing if you could, but given the choice to pick one there’s not much difference to you.

Senjuro looks a bit disappointed so you instead take more action. Moving the packages around pointlessly you choose another from somewhere in the middle. The letters outlining it explain nothing to you, but there’s juice and blood flowing around the free spaces. Mostly you’re just excited to run back to your room and sink your teeth into the fat and sinew. It leaves saliva pooling in your mouth.

With slightly shaky hands you hand it over to Senjuro. Even though you know it’ll end up back in your hold your instincts scream at you to keep it. The tips of your fingernails burn as you try to keep your claws in control.

With dilated eyes focused on the meat you don’t notice the smell of alcohol wafting into the room. The younger boy does, and he tries to take your hand and guide you away. As you’re unworried you drag your feet along the way. Ignoring his urgings you’re caught off guard when a hand hooks into the back of your shirt.

Turning around you think it’s Kyojuro who’s grabbed you. They look almost identical but a bit of extra height and some light stubble indicate him as someone else. You may be dumb but you’re not stupid and it’s easy to guess that this is the pairs father. You hadn’t considered the full image of their family, only caring to note those you interacted with.

His anger is different than Kyojuro’s. Is less pointed, engulfing the whole room rather than poking your skin alone. It smells rotten.

“Who brought this damned thing into my house?” Shinjuro’s question doesn’t require an answer, it’s already obvious. You try to turn tail and race into your room once he releases you, but you’ve been turned around and there’s no clear line to the exit. Senjuro reaches out to his father, trying to calm him.

“Aniue said it was ok so I just thought-“

“Kyojuro’s not your father is he?”

“N-no but-“

“Stop letting him act like he runs the fucking household. If he wants to be in charge he can get his own place.” Along with his cruel words his hands twist into fists. As an arm raises Senjuro shakes in anticipation.

You dart forward, nearly knocking the boy over. A strong fist collides with your forehead. You’ve been hit before, but you can’t remember a time a human had been able to hurt you this much.

Knocked off balance you’re happy enough to crouch to the ground. As the room comes back into focus another hand comes towards you. Lifted up harshly you’re face to face with the man. You’re hissing and spitting as you resist Shinjuro’s grip. Lying down and drinking had brought down the man’s physique, but shadows of muscle still remained. He clutches your hair in one hand. The minute you raise your claws he captures your wrists in the other. You try to gnash your teeth and aim yourself at his skin, but you can’t get near him. The best you could do now was lash out with your legs.

Twisting like a serpent you tried to loosen his grip. Senjuro was crying as he pulled on your clothing, trying his best to free you in his own way.

You’re only dropped when a door at the front of the house softly opens and shuts. The noise is barely perceptible to human ears, but Shinjuro still senses it. The moment he pushes you to the ground the man is quick to disappear back into his room.

Senjuro dashes to your side. At the moment you curl into yourself. The bruises around your wrists are already fading but your muscles are stiff when you move.

The boy clutches onto your body like you might be dying. Currently you’re not inclined to brush away his tears though you wish they’d stop.

“What happened here?” For once Kyojuro’s voice isn’t obnoxiously chipper or filled with disgust. There’s a genuine tone that you’ve never heard before. You still don’t bother to glance his way, trying to find comfort on the hard ground.

“F-father he um, he was being mean again and when he tried to grab me they got into a fight.” His voice is still thick with emotion as he crouches over you.

“Oh.” Kyojuro’s surprised. It’s silent for a quick second. “Well are you ok?”

“Aniue! I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” His arms grab your torso and try to lift you. With shaky arms you attempt to help him. There’s no reason you should be in such a weak state, perhaps after being pampered for a bit you’ve lost touch with what it’s like to be beast.

When the eldest is quick to scoop you up you’re at least well enough to let a quiet growl leap out from the back of your throat. You don’t move however. It’d be awful to get dumped on floor again and Kyojuro’s body is very warm against your side.

That doesn’t change the fact that the minute he sets you down into your room you run for your sheets. Hiding beneath them you try to peek without being caught. The worry is worthless because Rengoku has already disappeared and Senjuro is in his place.

He hand feeds you chunks of fancy meat, you think it’s cow, and pets your hair while you try not to fall asleep. The boy is whispering all kinds of praises that melt into one another but the culmination of all of them buzzes under your skin. Senjuro is often quick to praise but you’ve never felt as if it’s been truly earned.

—-

The next day Kyojuro approaches your room (willingly) again. Senjuro is already is his typical spot while you hide in the corner.

You’re surprised, but not enough to move. Glancing up with tired eyes you watch him go towards his brother.

“How come you took them out of the room?”

“I- Aniue! I said I was sorry.”

“I know, I’m not mad or anything ok? You just gotta tell me what’s going on.”

You stick your head out of your bed to listen. Kyojuro gives you a curious glance before looking away.

“Um, Muichiro-kun said it’s good to involve demons with their feedings. It cultivates bonding. He said he saw it in an article online.”

The elder brother sighs deeply. “It shouldn’t have to be this way but I need you to ask me before you do things like this ok? I’m just looking out for you.”

“I’m sorry aniue.”

“Don’t be. I don’t- you shouldn’t have to be sorry. I’ll have a talk with father.”

“It won’t do anything,” he mumbles under his breath. Perhaps Senjuro is feeling especially bitter today.

Kyojuro frowns but can’t muster a response. His eyes sweep over the room before the man turns around to leave.

—-

It’s another day where Senjuro is gone but the eldest is still home. You can’t keep track of the days or form any sort of schedule, you just know this happens on occasion.

You creep out of your room early in the morning. Though you can rely on scent to lead you it’s not as good as simply knowing the space. Every few turns you convince yourself you’re passing something relatively familiar.

After minutes of wandering you pass the room that contains Rengoku. The door is open so you step inside, then back out, and then back in. You’re not sure how to grab his attention.

Turning around you leave, only to re-enter. This time you let your foot collide with the door. The small tapping noise grabs his attention. You try to resist the instinct to hide. For now you just slouch more and hold your arms to your chest.

“What do you want?” Kyojuro speaks normally for once. You could imagine him asking anyone the question.

Peeling back your lips you try to get your vocal chords to form the proper noises. Instead of words you push out a low grumble that leads into a whine. You try the action several times to imitate something he could understand.

Moving closer you attempt the noise once more. His face holds a confusing mix of emotions, still a bit of disgust hidden within the layers.

Bowing your head and rolling your shoulders you hope that body language could bridge the gap in his understanding.

“Are you saying sorry?” At the question you look up and nod eagerly. Your face can’t form a proper friendly smile, but the result is hopefully close enough. It’s silly but a sense of accomplishment washes over you.

The man smiles back (his is warm and honest, painted with a touch of surprise). “Oh, well, thank you I suppose.”

A beat of silence. You wouldn’t be able to respond with anything other than more primal calls.

“And you do a good job of taking care of Senjuro. I’m glad someone is here for him when I’m gone.”

Ignoring the underlying bitterness (jealousy? blame?) you nod once more. As your head bows a sneaky hand rises to pet it. Kyojuro only taps your hair once or twice beneath turning and returning to his work.

Pleased you make sure there’s nothing remaining before running back to your room.

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